Miscellanea
by Poppylena
Summary: A collection of stories.
1. In which a visit to Longbourn is made

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

* * *

**In which a visit to Longbourn is made**.

"Of course I shall have to keep the next few weeks free," Mrs Bennet was saying to her friends as they sat in the drawing room at the Phillips'. A few of the ladies tried to suppress groans. They knew what coming next. It had been all they had heard for the past number of weeks "When Sir Felix and Lady Calder come to visit I expect to be kept busy."

"When are they to arrive?" Lady Lucas asked. She knew the answer, everybody did, but as a matter of politeness she asked again.

"Sometime tomorrow, I believe," Mrs Bennet replied. "You will see them arrive. I believe they will travel in the barouche-box belonging to Sir Felix; it has the Calder coat of arms on it and the servants look very fine in their livery. I doubt their coming will go unmissed," she boasted. She intended the whole neighbourhood to be aware of whom her visitors were.

"Will they stay long?" Mrs Long asked.

"They are unsure," Mrs Bennet replied. "Sir Felix is very attentive to his estate so he is often reluctant to leave it for long. His diligence is the reason why Grantholme is so prosperous. I will be glad to see my Mary again," she said, "I expect her duties as _Lady Calder_ have kept her busy." She had recently taken to stressing Mary's title whenever she was in company, as well as looking at those she was speaking to with a self-satisfied expression.

"It will be a long journey for them from the north, I should think," Mrs Phillips commented.

"Yes," Mrs Bennet replied. "It is unfortunate that most of my daughters seem to have settled so far away. Of course, I cannot complain. It has meant we have gained such fine houses in the family as Pemberley, Brisden and Grantholme. I wish you could see them but, yes, they are so far away. I console myself with Mr and Mrs Calder being in Town. They have no trouble in visiting Longbourn."

"Will you receive a visit from them?" Lady Lucas asked. "As Sir Felix and Mr Calder are brothers."

"No, for Mr Calder is travelling to Manchester with Mr Bingley on business this week and Kitty and Jane are to go with them," Mrs Bennet complained. "I had hoped to see them but it is not possible." She could not see why it had to be so. Surely the business could wait. It would not be often that Sir Felix and Lady Calder would be at Longbourn and she wished to have more daughters to visit now. It would be nice to show off a selection of her sons together, creating more opportunities for compliments. "Nor could I persuade the Darcys to come down and the Wickhams are forever busy." Or rather, in the case of the latter, Mr Bennet was reluctant to invite them, especially with Sir Felix there. However, Mrs Bennet did not wish to admit that to her friends. It would not do to confess to strained relations between her sons.

"I would like to take this opportunity to invite them for an evening at Lucas Lodge," Lady Lucas said. She knew it would mean an evening of boasting from Mrs Bennet but she could see the advantages for herself. She saw the benefits of having a baronet as a guest. It was another impressive name to be added to those who had called upon her.

"Yes, we will come," Mrs Bennet said.

"Will you go to the assemblies in Meryton?" Mrs Long asked. She was afraid that she might be left out of an invitation to Lucas Lodge for not being 'grand' enough. The assembly might be the only chance she had to be introduced to Sir Felix. She hoped it would be mentioned that she had shown Lady Calder kindness in her childhood.

"Yes, of course," Mrs Bennet answered. "I hope to make many social calls with Sir Felix and _Lady Calder_. Now, I must return to Longbourn. I do not want to miss their arrival should it be early. Good day."

* * *

"You have that look in your eyes, husband," Mary commented from her seat in the carriage opposite Sir Felix. He was sat glowering out of the window. He disliked his present situation (carriage journeys never appealed to him) and did not much relish the prospect before them. He did not object to seeing his wife's parents but it did come with various social duties.

He turned to wife with a sly smile, "That 'look' my dear Mary?" he asked. Her presence was the only pleasant aspect he could find. It had been an enjoyable few days confined in a carriage with just her. There had been very few interruptions to spoil it.

"Yes, the one I do not trust," she replied. "You are going to behave?"

"Of course. I will be the perfect gentleman," he said.

"You always are," Mary said. "A very bored perfect gentlemen and that is what worries me. I do not want our friends to find you disagreeable."

He looked at his wife with concern, "This is unlike you. It is not normally something you are bothered about." He reached to take hold of her hand.

"I know but, and you must not laugh at me, I am troubled about how they view our marriage," she confessed. "I am scared that they will think you so disagreeable that I am the only girl who would contemplate marrying you. They have always thought me so desperate for a husband that any man would suffice. I want them to realise that we are married for love."

"I would never laugh at you," he told her. "And I will try not to appear so uninterested when we are in company. Of course you must promise to gaze adoringly up at me," he smiled.

She laughed, "I will take your arm at times but I refuse to look mawkish. I am not _that_ eager to prove I love you."

"Personally, though, I do not think I will need any prompting to show our love," he said. "You will probably be the only tolerable thing I will find."

"I am only 'tolerable' then, sir?" she protested in mock-offence.

"Absolutely," he said. "Maybe slightly more than tolerable, perhaps." He sighed, "At least now we are able to stay close to each other without comment."

"I am simply anticipating no longer having 'Go where there is dancing, Mary,' hissed at me by my mother or 'Gentlemen want a happy face, Mary'. Never again will I have my mother fretting that no man will find me attractive," Mary said.

"Yet the funny thing is had you done as she wanted I would never have spoken to you," Sir Felix said with a smile. "I cannot abide women who are always smiling and dancing."

"I believe I spoke to you first," Mary pointed out.

"No, I said 'Miss Bennet' or something to that effect before," he said.

"Yes and then said no more. I was the one who tried to engage you in conversation," Mary reminded him. "With very little success and I was confused as to whether you desired my absence."

"I probably did. All I remember of that ball was counting down minutes until I could politely drag Bertram away," he smiled. He did vaguely remember speaking to Mary that first time and was sure he had been rude. "It appears you did not take too much offence otherwise we would not be sat here."

"Likewise you must not have found me too disagreeable," she replied. "My sisters still noticed. I had both Lizzy and Kitty asking."

"I had a drunk Bertram commenting on the journey back but he forgot after, thankfully, so it took a while for him to start teasing me about it," Sir Felix said.

"I never expected to marry you," she said then looked at her wedding ring. "Even after four months I am still in a state of disbelief."

"Best decision of my life," he told her. He then patted the seat next to him. "I believe this is your place."

She smiled and sat next to him, "I am only opposite you because you were asleep before and taking up the whole seat." He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I will be happy to see Longbourn again."

* * *

"They are here! They are here!" Mrs Bennet dashed from the window she had been looking out from as she spotted a carriage approach. "Oh Hill! Make haste! Mr Bennet, come quickly. They are here!" She rushed frantically around seemingly unable to decide what to do next before choosing to go out of the front door. Mr Bennet eventually joined her as the carriage arrived. He had seen no point in hurrying. It had achieved little for his wife apart from a hassled appearance.

Sir Felix and Mary alighted from the carriage and Mrs Bennet excited hugged her daughter. She would have done the same to Sir Felix if not for the impatient look on his face and carefully timed bow. He was willing to tolerate being pawed by her on his wedding day but there were limits. Mary simply looked shocked. Her mother had never been so enthusiastic towards her before.

"Did anyone see you arrive?" Mrs Bennet asked them eagerly. She hoped they had.

"I do not know," Mary replied, puzzled by the question. "We were not paying attention. Perhaps there was Mrs Long."

Mrs Bennet looked disappointed. "Maybe another turn around Meryton is possible?" she wondered hopefully.

"My dear that is asking too much," Mr Bennet said in an effort to rein in his wife.

"Mrs Bennet," Sir Felix started. "I have spent enough hours in this carriage today as it is. No, another turn would not be possible." He was too weary to care about upsetting her by being too sharp.

"Come in, please," Mr Bennet said.

Mary took her husband's arm as they followed her parents into the house. "You promised to behave," she whispered.

"Only when we are in company," he replied. "If your parents do not realise I am a cantankerous old bear by now then they are blind. Or stupid."

"Felix!" Mary tried to scold him but could not remain serious. "Somebody needs a nap otherwise my mother is in danger of quickly becoming disillusioned with her new son."

"I care not one jot," he said. "It was you I married. As long as you are happy."

"I am. Soon I intend to make our excuses," she told him. "We will go to our bedroom."

"Mary! What change in you character is this? I think you have been possessed by your sister," Sir Felix teased.

"I am thinking no such thing," she protested. "I simply wish to keep the peace. I know what you are like when you are tired. I cannot deny I want to be alone with you but I will read whilst you sleep."

"You make me sound like a child but it is a sensible plan," he said with a smile. "I would probably have fallen asleep anyway. Will Middleton and Hannah be looked after?" Their respective servants had accompanied them to Longbourn. Even though Sir Felix had asked Middleton whether he wished to remain at Grantholme with Mrs Middleton he had refused saying that he welcomed the break. Hannah had been eager to go. She had never left Yorkshire before, not even to visit Manchester.

"Yes, they went with Hill," Mary replied. She then looked around. "It has not changed. Later I will show you around. There are many quiet, private places to hide in."

* * *

"You are awake early," Mr Bennet said as he found Mary reading by a window in the parlour.

"Yes. Felix is still asleep," she replied. "I did not want to disturb him so I came down here to read."

"How is life at Grantholme?" Mr Bennet asked. He could not deny his daughter looked better than she had ever done whilst living at Longbourn.

"It is wonderful," she replied with a smile. "I am supposed to be part of the idle rich now but I have never been so busy. I like it very much."

"I will have to visit you," he said.

"Yes but wait for Felix to recover from the trauma of having to be sociable here at Longbourn before you force him to do it again at Grantholme," she joked to the surprise of her father. She had never been inclined to light heartedness in the past. "He will pale at the mere mention of visitors for the next few months."

"I am eager to raid your library," Mr Bennet said.

"You have not seen the whole of it," Mary told him. "There are rooms at Grantholme that will excite you, Papa. I am teaching myself German because I have found that not only does he know Latin and French, as I expected, my learned husband also speaks Greek, German, Italian and a little Spanish. In an effort to stop myself feeling inadequate I gradually intend to become a polyglot as well. It is a challenge."

"I will remember that if I ever need a translator," Mr Bennet said. "I am pleased you have found intellectual stimulation."

"We were debating natural rights last week," Mary said happily, "And I was winning. Papa, you must speak more with him."

"I will do," he said. "We did last night after you ladies had retired."

"Good," she then stood up. "Wait there. I have something for you." She left the room and returned with a package.

Mr Bennet opened it and saw it was a painting of Grantholme Hall, "Is this your artwork?"

She shook her head. "It is all Felix's work. I gave him a painting set for Christmas and he has been putting it to good use. We decided it would be nice if you had a picture of Grantholme to put up at Longbourn."

"You mother will definitely like this," Mr Bennet decided. "Now along with telling everyone about Grantholme she can provide a picture as well. It will irritate our neighbours but that has never bothered me before."

"I am sure they have been hearing about our visit for weeks," Mary said.

"Yes, endlessly," Mr Bennet replied. "As have I. I am glad you are come, though."

"So am I," Mary told him. "So is Felix deep down under the gruffness. He values your company at least."

"He may change his mind about being glad to be here once he sees what your mother had planned," Mr Bennet said. "I believe his patience will be thoroughly tried."

* * *

"Lady Lucas," Sir Felix bowed as he was introduced. They had been invited to Lucas Lodge for the evening.

"Sir Felix," Lady Lucas said. "We are glad you were able to come. Lady Calder," she curtsied at Mary who was by her husband's side.

"I thank you for our invitation," Sir Felix said. Lady Lucas smiled. There was an uncomfortable silence. Sir Felix was trying to fulfil his promise to Mary and be pleasant but it was hard for him. He was not used to being sociable and it did not come naturally for him. It was made worse as they were the centre of attention. There were too many curious eyes on him for his liking. It seemed the whole of the 'respectable sort' of Meryton had appeared for a look at the Calders. There was too much whispering occurring and it was not something he trusted. He had noticed that a considerable amount had been directed at his wife as well. He did not like some of the looks she had been receiving either. They seemed to judge and doubt. Mary was right when she had said there would be critics. Too many faces seemed to say 'What is he doing with _her_?' and it irritated him. His Mary deserved more than that. "I am happy to meet Lady Calder's former neighbours. As friends you will have been pleased to see her marry."

"Yes," Lady Lucas replied guiltily. She had been the most critical when Mary's engagement had been announced. It was mainly jealousy. Yet another Bennet girl had married well but her daughters seemed to be making little progress past clergymen in terms of suitors even though their father was a knight. It was not fair that the Bennets had snared every eligible young man. She even found Wickham preferable to her son-in-law Collins. At least there were no more single Bennets left. The next rich gentleman was surely meant for her Maria. "Please excuse me. I have other guests." She went away.

"Felix!" Mary hissed.

"What? It was a perfectly innocent comment," he said. "The fault is on her part only. Had she been genuinely happy for you then I would have made a harmless observation. It will teach her to be so disparaging."

"You are wicked," she said then smiled. "But wonderful. One look from you and people have been more polite to me than ever before."

"It is my duty," he told her. "The whole world must realise how remarkable my wife is. Let us find your mother. I would take her over Lady Lucas and her ilk any day."

"I never thought I would see you deliberately seeking her out," Mary commented.

"She is the lesser of the evils," Sir Felix said. "Indeed it is only your presence that is stopping me from joining your father back at Longbourn. Stay at my side, please."

"You need not even ask," Mary said. "Believe me, there is nobody here I am desperate to talk to or see. At least with you I will have decent conversation." She took his arm.

"And I realised not one of my sons has a mother," Mrs Bennet was saying to Mrs Phillips. "It was then when I decided that I must become their mother. It will please me to care for them as if they were my own."

"Oh good lord I am doomed," Sir Felix muttered to Mary who smiled. "Mrs Bennet," he bowed.

"Sir Felix!" she turned to him. "There you are!"

"Yes, here I am, Mrs Bennet," he said. "Mrs Phillips, Mrs Long."

"Do you dance, Sir Felix?" Mrs Long asked. "The floor is lacking at the minute. Even if Lady Calder is not inclined I am sure we can find you a partner."

"I can dance," he replied. "But a serious illness a few years ago means I am no longer able. I lack the stamina now." Mary looked knowingly at her husband. She wondered how long he would use that as a convenient excuse. Bertram had told her he had been exploiting it for years now. "So I refrain from dancing."

"That is a pity," Mrs Phillips said. "Are there many opportunities for gatherings near Grantholme?"

"Yes but neither Lady Calder or myself is disposed to attend," Sir Felix replied. "We are kept busy at Grantholme."

"Is Grantholme a large place?" Mrs Long asked.

"No, it is only a small village," Sir Felix said.

"But the Grantholme estate is still extensive," Mrs Bennet quickly put in lest her neighbours gained the wrong impression.

"I suppose you find your husband to be often busy, Lady Calder" Mrs Long said.

"Yes we are," Mary replied. "We do devote a considerable amount of time to managing the estate."

"I am glad I now have my wife to share the burden," Sir Felix said as he enjoyed the looks of confusion on the ladies' faces. It was as if the notion that a wife might actually help her husband in business was completely alien to them.

"Mary has found herself to be gifted at that sort of thing," Mrs Bennet said. She was bewildered at the thought but still knew it was an opportunity to boast of any of her daughters' talents and accomplishments, even if they may seem outlandish.

"Oh that is interesting," Mrs Phillips said. "I hear your brother is going into business with Mr Bingley, Sir Felix."

"Yes," Sir Felix replied. "I have every confidence in him."

"That is good. Do you play whist, sir? I believe a table is being set up," Mrs Long said. Talk of business matters bored her. "It would be nice if you could join us."

* * *

"Are you sure nobody will disturb us here?" Sir Felix asked as Mary led him through the bottom of the gardens at Longbourn and into the wooded area.

"Quite sure," she replied. "I used to spend hours here when I was younger and not even Lizzy came across me and she was always wandering around." She sat them under a tree. "This is where I came to read and generally experience peace and quiet. It was mainly to escape Kitty and Lydia."

Sir Felix leant against the tree trunk, "Peace at last."

"I am sorry for dragging you down here," Mary said.

"No, Mary. You have no need to apologise," he told her. "I would be a cruel husband if I refused to let you visit your parents and I do like Longbourn. It is just…"

"That the whole neighbourhood seems to be involved," Mary finished. "I know. I dislike it as much as you do. I have never had this much attention paid to me. However, we may be able to avoid so many engagements now."

"How so?" Sir Felix looked craftily interested.

"Mama has taken your words to heart," Mary told him.

"What words?" he asked.

"When we were at the Lucas's and you made your usual excuse for not dancing," Mary explained. "She is now worried you might overtax yourself and is afraid she is making you do too much."

He gave a low chuckle, "Anything else?"

"She is demanding I take better care of you," Mary said. "Be grateful we do not live near to Longbourn. You will be fussed to death otherwise." She saw the sly grin on his face. "Do not take advantage of this, Felix," she warned.

"Not even a little bit? I will prioritise," he said. "What is the most important?"

"The assembly tomorrow," Mary said easily. It was to be the highlight of their visit for her mother. "Mama had been waiting for this chance to show you off."

"And she has not done that already?" Sir Felix asked in disbelief. It seemed that it was all that had occurred so far. If Mrs Bennet was not dragging them to various places she was inviting people to Longbourn to gawp at them. "Never mind. What about this evening?"

"We are to Aunt and Uncle Phillips again," she said.

"In that case – Oh, Mary, I feel ever so tired!" he exclaimed, theatrically putting his hand to his forehead.

She shook her head, "You are wicked. I swear this is not the man I married."

He grinned, "You are speaking to a desperate man. However, if you wish to go we shall."

"You know I do not," she said. "Therefore upon further consideration you do look tired," she smiled.

"Now, are you definitely sure nobody will disturb us here?" he asked and she nodded. He then gently pulled her down and she lay with her head on his lap. He picked a bluebell and placed it in her hair. "I hope we have a daughter," he said suddenly.

She laughed, "This is unexpected!" They had hardly even discussed children let alone whether they wanted sons or daughters.

"I just thought of a young girl who would bring us flowers at this time of year," he replied. "Daffodils, daisies, cherry blossom, bluebells. You have seen the grounds at Grantholme. A little girl would love it."

"Just as long as she takes after you in looks and not me," she said and he frowned. "Do not look at me like that. You might find me beautiful but others do not. I do not want out daughter to be the 'plain Calder girl'. She can look like you but have my desire for improvement. Then we will have a beautiful, accomplished daughter. A son can take after either of us."

"I have never thought of myself as a father," he said. "The only children I saw in my future before marrying you were Bertram's various issue and I had decided they are to inherit their father's inability to shut up so I will be grumpy Uncle Felix to them."

"Our children will be quiet and serious," Mary said.

"I think with parents like us they will have no choice," he decided. "Although they may take after various aunts and uncles."

"It may happen soon," she commented. "Do you mind if it does?"

"No," he said. "I think I have prepared myself and will have nine months to become accustomed to the prospect when it does happen."

"I am very contented," she decided. "I used to come here to escape but I think I have nothing to get away from now. I am even able to endure my mother better. Although, I still think we ought to stay here a little while longer. Mrs Long was being received just as we left. My new-found toleration is not _that_ developed."

"Mine will never be that well developed," Sir Felix put in. "Screeching women are something to be avoided. I never thought such levels of excitement possible from one person."

* * *

"The assembly is cancelled!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she came into the drawing room. Unfortunately, unlike the days when Kitty and Lydia were still at home, she was met with little shared misery. Instead, it was just the indifferent faces of Mr Bennet, Sir Felix and Mary. "Some nonsense about a leaking roof."

"That is a pity," Mr Bennet said as a matter of courtesy.

"It is! How can I introduce Sir Felix and Mary to everybody without the assembly?" she asked.

Sir Felix put his book down, "Mrs Bennet, what have you been doing for the past ten days?" he asked in confusion. "I seemed to have been introduced to a whole host of people."

"It is not the same!" she said. "That was only informally and to close friends. At an assembly there is the whole neighbourhood and more. I can present you to the people it is unseemly to invite or be invited by. That is how Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were first seen. Now it will not happen for the next assembly is after you leave."

Sir Felix took pity on her, "Perhaps then we could go for a jaunt around Meryton?" he said to her. It was not a prospect that particularly appealed to him but he could console himself with the fact that they were returning to Grantholme in a few days. He could endure the occasional instances of being on display if it kept his mother-in-law happy.

"In your barouche? With the top down?" she asked eagerly. What a thing to be seen in his carriage complete with the coat of arms and anything else that might seem impressive to her friends! Nobody could be in any doubt as to who her new son was then.

"Well, I had thought more of a walk," he said hesitantly, "But I suppose it makes sense to bring the carriage out for a small ride in preparation for the journey back."

"Then it is settled," she said. "Mr Bennet, you are to come too for you have rarely been seen in Sir Felix and Lady Calder's presence. And Mary as well."

"Yes, Mary is coming," he said and shot his wife a look that made his need for her attendance very clear to her. She smiled. It was on such occasions that her husband needed saving.

"Mr Middleton!" Mrs Bennet called as she spied him pass the room. He came in. "Your master requires his carriage at once."

"Yes, Mrs Bennet," he bowed with a slightly amused smile. Sir Felix recognised it as one he usually had when he was humouring Mrs Middleton. He disappeared.

"Well then!" Mrs Bennet turned to the others. "Make haste."

They stood and went outside where Sir Felix's carriage was being brought out.

"You are being very tolerant," Mary whispered to her husband.

"Do you want her lamenting the loss of the assembly for the rest of the day?" he whispered back.

"I should like to sit next to you, Sir Felix," Mrs Bennet told him.

"What if I wish to sit with my wife?" he asked.

"Oh Mary has plenty of opportunities to sit with you!" she said dismissively. They were helped in to the carriage and Mrs Bennet happily sat next to her son.

"It is a very fine carriage," she said as they set off. "I think it is very smooth on the road."

"Really, Mrs Bennet?" Sir Felix asked. "I have thought one carriage to be very like the next."

"No, this a nice one. Fit for a baronet," she decided. She then waited impatiently for them to get to Meryton where she could be seen. She was glad they had the top down as now there was no question as to who was riding in the fancy carriage. It was a pity there was not more of her daughters visiting then there could a procession of carriages. Should that ever happen she decided that she would ride with the Darcys. Sir Felix may be a baronet but Mr Darcy had the more expensive carriage. It made more sense that it should be that way. "Oh! There is Sir William and Lady Lucas. Stop, driver. Good day to you," she waved to them.

The Lucases stopped. "Mrs Bennet, Mr Bennet, Sir Felix, Lady Calder."

"We are having a drive out," Mrs Bennet told them. "It is a shame about the assembly, is it not?"

"Yes for Maria was to walk out with her new suitor," Lady Lucas said. Maria had been introduced to a friend of one of their sons. Jeremy Lucas was still at Oxford (he had not managed to be sober enough to graduate yet so Sir William was cutting off his allowance) and he had brought a friend home to visit. Maria had taken a liking to him.

"Oh, is it anyone we know?" Mrs Bennet asked curiously. She hoped it was not somebody too impressive. She still had not finished boasting about her daughters' marriages yet.

"No, he attends Oxford with Jeremy," Lady Lucas told her. "His father owns land in Norfolk which Mr Crewe will inherit."

"Oh, that is happy news," Mrs Bennet said. It sounded to be a good match. It was better than that odious Mr Collins (for Maria Lucas was a pleasant girl and she deserved more than the likes of him) but not so exciting that the focus was taken from her new sons.

"Yes," Lady Lucas said. "Excuse us for we must be on our way." They left them.

"I can tolerate a landowner's son," Mrs Bennet said once they set off again. "For he will be rich enough to stop Lady Lucas from making jealous comments and also from mentioning that hateful entailment of Mr Collins's but I will still have the best married daughters in the neighbourhood."

"It is nice to see that Maria Lucas might be wed," Mary said. "Kitty will be pleased. They became good friends after Lydia was gone."

"She is certainly the better looking Lucas girl," Mrs Bennet said. "The younger one looks too like Mrs Collins to ever be considered a beauty. I was always grateful that you were never as plain as the Lucas girls, Mary."

"Thank you," Mary said. It was almost a compliment after all.

They took a few more turns around Meryton before everyone bar Mrs Bennet became bored. The village was almost deserted. There were a few villagers around but Mrs Bennet did not consider them a worthy enough audience to show off to. It was no replacement for the assembly even though it was pleasant to be sat next to Sir Felix. Nobody of any consequence was there to see them and it was her only chance before they returned to Grantholme.

"My dear Mrs Bennet, should we not go back to Longbourn?" Mr Bennet said.

"Please, I am becoming dizzy with going round in circles," Sir Felix said. Mrs Bennet's eyes widened in concern. "I am joking, Mrs Bennet."

"I suppose we must return," she said dejectedly. "There is nobody here to see us. Tell the driver to take us back then."

* * *

"Ah, home at last!" Sir Felix said as they walked into the sitting room at Grantholme. "As fond as I am becoming of Longbourn and your parents there is no place like Grantholme." He sank down in a chair.

"I know," Mary replied. "Felix, promise me we will not leave Grantholme or admit any guests for at least two weeks."

"Oh an easy promise!" he exclaimed. "I do not care if you and the servants are the only people I see for the next month. We are closing doors whilst we recover. Just you and I otherwise you may lose your husband to the madhouse." He pulled her down so she was sat next to him. "Just us, that is all."

* * *


	2. In which an observation of our friends

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

A/N: This should have a warning but it is hard to give one without ruining the storyline. However, this story may upset and contains reference to bereavement.

* * *

**In which an observation of our friends in London is made**.

"Oh, Dobson's has new bonnets in!" Mrs Amelia Waterford exclaimed as she looked at a shop window.

"I have seen better," Mrs Catherine Calder said with a look of indifference.

"Oh Kitty dear, we do not all have rich husbands like yourself," Mrs Waterford replied. "We cannot afford better."

"It is nothing to do with money," Mrs Calder said with a shrug. "They are poorly made up for an establishment in Town. I have made ones superior to those and I do not claim to be a milliner. You had much better create your own."

"I think they are pretty," Miss Clarissa Cole put in. She was the younger sister of Mrs Waterford.

"You think every bonnet you see in London pretty," Mrs Waterford told her. She found her sister too rusticated now she had married and moved to London. "Even that turban we saw at the assembly."

"Those things are dreadful," Mrs Calder said. "I had to persuade my mother against one. I know one's hair should be covered once you are married but there are limits." Her censure of turbans was partly down to envy. She had attempted one herself as she liked to be fashionable. It did not suit her and Mr Calder had laughed far too much when he has seen it.

"They are supposed to be _à la mode_," Mrs Waterford said, pleased to be able to show off her French and her knowledge of fashion. She was one year older than Mrs Calder was and three years older than her sister so was determined to show that.

"I still do not like them," Mrs Calder said.

"Show me how to make up a bonnet, Mrs Calder," Miss Cole said. She had not been paying much attention to her sister who had put on many airs since her marriage.

"You know how to, Clarissa," Mrs Waterford said.

"Yes but they always look strange," Miss Cole complained. "I cannot do it even with many years practice."

"I will if you want," Mrs Calder said. "We should do that one day!" she exclaimed after sudden inspiration. "We can have a bonnet-making party."

"Yes, let us!" Miss Cole said joyfully. "I should like that very much."

"It is a nice idea," Mrs Waterford said, subtlety dismissive. She counted Mrs Calder amongst her closest friends but that did not mean she was not jealous that her friend always had the most compliments on her bonnets. She did not need her help though and was not going to put herself in any situation that might encourage it. "Now, you may not like the bonnets on offer, Kitty, but is there not a fine range of ribbon."

"Yes," Mrs Calder said. "See that turquoise, Amelia. I think it will trim your new dress very nicely."

"I know," Mrs Waterford said. "I have already done so. Will your new dress be ready for the assembly three days hence?"

"No for a mistake had been made," Mrs Calder complained. "The sleeves were cut incorrectly. They somehow made my arms look twice the size."

"A pity," Mrs Waterford said. "It is an attractive cloth."

"I liked the dress you wore at the assembly a few days ago," Miss Cole added. "It is a similar cloth, is it not?"

"Almost but my new dress was to be thinner as it is getting warmer," Kitty said. "I am finding myself very flushed after dancing. I need something cooler."

"That is why I tell Mr Waterford that we are not standing up for every dance," Mrs Waterford said. "I think he wants me to be red in the face for he insists on dancing when it is too warm. Are we done here?"

"Yes," Mrs Calder said. "I will only buy more ribbon if we stay longer. There are only so many shades of blue you can have after all."

* * *

"Have you been spending my money again," Bertram teased as his wife came into the room laden with packages.

"You said it was our money now," she reminded him. "And it is only little things." She opened one of the packages, "Look at this lace, Bertie. I have no clue how to use it as it would be a shame to turn it into something that is rarely seen.

"Use it to trim your nightgown," Bertram suggested with a grin.

"No, it would be a waste of good lace," she dismissed. "Only you would see it then. It begs to be shown off in company."

"Stick on a bonnet," he said.

"That is why you are not a women," she told him. "That would ruin it. I will think of a purpose. Now, I will put these things away and then come back down," she kissed him and went.

He smiled and turned back to the ledger he had been looking at before she returned. He was not getting very far and for every minute spend working another ten had been wasted by staring into space. He did not know how his brother could devote so many hours to his ledgers. He was glad he only did it once a week. He believed that any more time spent on them would send him to Bedlam. It was much better to think about nonsense.

"_BERTIE_!"

Bertram was brought of out his daydreaming into full alertness at his wife's anguished cry. He rushed up the stairs and stood stock still in the doorway of their bedroom as he found his wife with a patch of red on her dress. "Please tell me that is red ink," he said, it was the only thing he could think to say.

She shook her head and gave a sob. "What is happening to me?" Bertram hurried to her side and held her to him.

"Is it coming from…your area?" he asked hesitantly then cursed himself. This was no time for euphemisms.

She nodded, "I bent down to put something away and then there was this awful pain. What is it?" she asked desperately. She had never experienced anything like this before. Menstruation for her was rarely severe or painful. "My courses are not due until…" she then realised she had no idea when they were due, she had been so busy recently that she could not recall the last time.

"I do not know," Bertram said helplessly. "I will send for the doctor." He said and walked her to the bed. He laid her down and kissed the top of her head. He went to the door and stopped a servant. "Send for a doctor. Mrs Calder is ill." When he returned to her he took hold of her hand and gently stroked her hair. "How do you feel, Kitty?"

She weakly smiled at him, he looked so concerned, but then grimaced. "It hurts again," she whimpered and he took her in his arms. He had no idea what to do. His wife was suffering and he could not think of a thing to help her. He went to let go of her but she resisted. "No. Stay here. The servant can bring the doctor when he comes."

"I love you," Bertram said as he gently kissed her. "You will be fine. I wish I could do more."

"Your presence helps, Bertie," she told him. She had no idea what was happening to her and had never been so scared but he was there and she always felt safe in his arms. "Do not leave."

"I will have to when the doctor comes," he told her regretfully.

"I know but he is not come yet," she said suddenly feeling tired despite the pain.

"Dr Fox," they were disturbed as a servant announced the doctor.

"Mr Calder," Dr Fox said.

"Yes," Bertram released Kitty and stood up. "She is bleeding, doctor, from below and there is pain," he informed Fox.

"Thank you," he said. "I am afraid I will have to ask you to leave. Have you a maid?"

"I understand," Bertram said even though he was reluctant to go. "Sophie, assist the doctor," he said to the maid that he had seen hovering by the doorway. He turned to Kitty and squeezed her hand. "I will be back as soon as he lets me." Kitty nodded and Bertram left with one last concerned look towards his wife.

He went down to the sitting room and started to pace. He had never considered the possibility of Kitty becoming ill. They were young and healthy. What if he lost her? He did not know what could be afflicting her but there was blood and pain involved so it had to be serious. He sat in one of the chairs and waited for the doctor. Hopefully Fox would know what was happening to Kitty and that it could be easily treated. Then Kitty could rest and everything would be fine. It had to be because they were both far too young to be widowed. A few days rest and she would surely be herself again. That had to be the only outcome. Maybe Kitty was having a bad attack of her womanly troubles and it would be over soon. That usually involved pain and blood so maybe it was just a little more intense this time. They could cope with that. He would just hold her when it hurt and hope it would help. Yes, that is what it was. Kitty would be fine soon enough.

Bertram stood up when Dr Fox entered after what seemed like hours. "Well?"

"I am sorry," he said and shook his head. "I was unable to save the baby."

"Is Kitty in any danger?" he asked anxiously. What the doctor had said then registered. "What was that?"

"I was unable to prevent your wife from miscarrying," the doctor told him. Bertram stared at him in shock. "You did not know?"

"I-I-well, no," he stammered. "No. No." He could not believe it. He had not even considered the possibility though now it all made sense with the bleeding and the pain. "Will Mrs Calder have known?"

"Your wife was only partly conscious once I was treating her," Fox replied. "She was unaware of anything I said to the servant assisting me. It is probable she did not."

Bertram struggled to understand what the doctor was saying. Had he been alone he would have pinched himself to see if he was not in a dream, or rather a nightmare. "Is my wife unharmed?"

"Mrs Calder will be fine after a rest," the doctor said reassuringly. "There is no damage though a little shock has occurred. A few days bedridden and she will be recovered."

"Physically, I suppose you mean," Bertram said. "She has lost a baby after all. Should we have know?" he asked. He knew he was inexperienced in these matter but he had always believed it was obvious when somebody was expecting but then what would he know. He could not recall ever spending much time in the presence of a pregnant woman.

"It depends. Your servant said she has been sick," Fox replied.

"Yes that is true but I thought it was our new cook," Bertram said with a frown. "I was suffering myself for a few days. I just thought my wife was taking longer to recover. I cannot believe I did not realise she was pregnant."

"You are not the only one it has happened to," Dr Fox told him. "I had a female patient who was almost ready to give birth before it was realised."

"It is no excuse. I am supposed to look after Kitty," he sighed. "Will it happen again?"

"I could not tell you. I do not know why it happened this time, your wife is perfectly healthy in other respects and more than capable of bearing children," he told him. "I can tell you that I have known many women have children after such an episode as this."

"That does not comfort me at present knowing we have lost one child," Bertram said sadly. "But thank you for your help all the same. Kitty is safe and that is all I can manage to deal with at the moment."

The doctor shook his hand. "I shall come again tomorrow to see how the patient is progressing. I will see myself out."

Bertram nodded. Once Fox had gone he sighed. He had no idea how he was going to break the news to Kitty. It was hard enough for him to accept himself without having to say it aloud, which would make it horribly real. Whatever happened, though, he was determined not to let Kitty blame herself. If anyone was at fault it was himself as it was his duty to protect his family.

* * *

Kitty awoke to find her husband sat at the bedside, "Have you been there long?" she asked. He gave a small smile but did not say anything. She had never seen him look so serious. "What is it? What did the doctor say?"

"Oh Kitty," Bertram said.

"What? What is wrong with me?" she asked, panicked by his sombre face.

"Nothing as such now but you-you…had a miscarriage," he told her with difficulty.

"I was pregnant?" she asked in disbelief. He nodded silently, biting his lip. "_Was_ pregnant." It was starting to register what he had said. "I was pregnant. Oh! We were going to have a child but…not anymore." She had never felt as astounded as this. "Bertie? How did I not know?"

"It was as much as a shock to me," he told her. "I still do not know what to think to it. The doctor says you need to rest for a few days."

"I was pregnant," she said again. It did not seem real.

Bertram stood up and joined her on the bed. He took her in his arms.

"You are in your nightshirt," she realised. "What time is it?"

"After ten at night," he replied. "You have been asleep for most of the day." He had hardly left her bedside once the doctor had gone. He wanted to be there when she woke up.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I do not know. I did not realise I was soon to be a father when I awoke this morning and I am not to be one now but something of great importance happened today in relation to it," he replied. "I feel very confused, Kitty. I am just relieved you are not in any danger now."

"I still cannot believe I was with child," she said. "I had no suspicions at all. Not even in the slightest."

He sighed. "It had been my constant thought since the doctor told me but I am no closer to understanding it."

"Why did I not realise?" she asked in desperation. "Maybe I did something I should not have done when pregnant and that is why we lost it."

"You have not, Kitty," he told her. "You must not blame yourself. I should be protecting you."

"I always feel safe with you, Bertie," she said. "Do not worry that you have been neglectful. You will never be."

"I felt helpless this morning," he said. "I never want to experience that feeling again."

"Then how are you going to be in the future when I give birth," she said. "It does not matter anyway because you still there when I needed.

He kissed the top of her head. "I did not want to leave you."

"I know but you are here now," Kitty replied, clinging onto his chest. "I am glad you are not banished from the room."

"I would have ignored it anyway," he said. He lay down and she settled so she was as close to him as possible. "You do not need me in the next room, you need me here."

"I am glad you are my husband," she said as she fell asleep again. "I could not have married a better man."

* * *

"Sir?" Marsden found his master sat at the window in the sitting room just staring out onto the road. He had his knees against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. It was the day after and Kitty still needed rest according to the doctor when he had visited. "You are in here then."

"Yes, Tommy," Bertram replied briefly looking up. "You have suddenly become very formal addressing me as 'sir'."

"I reckoned I had to start showing some respect now," Marsden replied. Joking aside he had noticed a change in Bertram in the past day. There was a new seriousness about him. "Maybe soon I will become 'Marsden'."

"Yes," Bertram said then sighed. "I am not in a very light-hearted mood, I am afraid, though I appreciate your attempts to tease."

Marsden nodded. "Mrs Calder is asleep, Sophie says, and I have told the servants that they are to admit no visitors." It was obvious to him that the master wished to see nobody at present and Mrs Calder could not.

"Thank you," Bertram said. "I have written Mr and Mrs Bingley, however, so do not turn them away."

"Understood," Marsden replied. "You would have made a fine father."

"Thank you, Tommy, but that is not what I fancy hearing at present," Bertram said with a sad smile. "I am afraid it is only a reminder of what has been lost." Whether he would have made a good father was of no consequence now. The opportunity had been destroyed and he did not want to think upon the matter. He was scared the miscarriage had happened because God had decided he was not made for fatherhood.

"My mother lost a few babies but there is still enough of us," Marsden told him, hoping it would offer some consolation. He was one of the surviving twelve and it was only age that stopped Mrs Marsden from producing more. "I am sure this was not your only chance."

"I know," Bertram said. "Tommy, could you please leave me now. I need time to think."

"Of course," Marsden bowed.

* * *

"Bertram?" Charles Bingley stuck his head into the sitting room. Bertram was still sat at the window where Marsden had left him earlier. He had not moved since then, not even to find food, which would worry Kitty when she found out. He usually hated missing meals.

"Charles," Bertram looked up and put down the cushion he had been hugging.

"How do you feel?" Bingley said as he came over to join him. He had never seen his friend this subdued. It was an unsettling experience for him and he was sure it was so abnormal that he would start seeing horses with two heads and cats that talked.

"I am beginning to realise what we have lost," he replied then noticed he had managed to pull the tassels off the cushion in his brooding. "Oh dear," he muttered. "Is Mrs Bingley with my wife?"

"Yes," Bingley replied.

"I am a stupid idiot, Charles," Bertram said harshly. "What sort of man does not realise his wife is with child? I am supposed to protect her," he looked away and dug his nails in the seat, "and our children."

"To be fair, Bertram, I only knew about Jane when the doctor told me," Bingley said. "We are not telepathic."

"Yes but Kitty was sick every morning for nearly two weeks," Bertram told him bitterly. "And I put it down to bad food. I am obtuse. I hope she is never seriously ill. She would probably be dead before I noticed."

"Bertram!" Bingley sounded horrified as his friend's bluntness. "You know it is not so. I have always thought you to be an attentive husband."

"No, I have just been fortunate that marriage so far has been fun," he said. "Now it has become serious and I am too childish to manage. Poor Kitty."

"I think that realisation is a common occurrence," Bingley told him. "I know I only believed marriage to be full of pleasures at first."

"I just wished I had known she was pregnant," Bertram said with a sigh. "We went to an assembly a few days ago. We spent the evening dancing. If I had known…" he trailed off.

"I believe it is safe to dance at first," Bingley told him trying to be reassuring. "At least I presume so. It never harmed Jane when she was having Thomas." Or indeed now but he did not think it was an appropriate time to announce they were expecting another little arrival in the new year. Although, now he wondered whether it was safe and decided to tell Jane his concerns.

"I cannot believe we were nearly parents. I mean, a little baby, Charles," he stared at the oak panelling of the window frame and then at Bingley with a humourless smile. "I suppose I should not be surprised given how active in the bedroom we are. It is not fair, Charles."

"I have no answer to that," Bingley said.

"I do not expect you to," Bertram replied. "The doctor had no real answer either. He could not even tell us whether it will happen again. The next time Kitty is expecting I will ensure she will never overdo it. I can do that at least. I do not know what we would do if it happened again."

"Have you told our family?" Bingley asked.

"I have written Felix but nobody else yet," Bertram replied. He had sent a message to his brother even before sending one to the Bingleys. He had told Sir Felix not to come to London but even writing the letter had helped him. He knew his brother would send him something consoling in return and that was enough. "I would not know where to start and I have to confess I would find it difficult to cope with Mrs Bennet's presence. I think she would be overwhelming with her concern. I am slightly comforted by the fact we did not even know Kitty was pregnant. At least we do not have to explain to people where the baby went. We simply will not tell our friend in Town unless Kitty wishes to confide in those with which she is more intimate. That way it will be easier to get over."

"Mrs Bingley and myself are here whenever you need," Bingley told him.

"I know, Charles, and I would like to thank you in advance," Bertram said. "And I am glad Mrs Bingley will be there for Kitty. She is in need of her sister."

* * *

"Jane?" Kitty sat up as her sister entered the room.

"Oh Kitty," Jane quickly crossed the room and embraced her sister. "My poor Kitty."

"I am glad you are here, Jane," Kitty told her. She had longed for her sister to come all day and was thankful she was in London and not at Brisden. She was sure she would not be able to cope if they had been alone in London.

"We came as soon as we could," Jane told her. "Mr Bingley is with Mr Calder. How is he?"

"He has never been so serious and quiet," Kitty replied. "But he is loving and I would not survive without him."

"And how are you?" Jane asked her.

"Terrified, Jane," Kitty replied. "I did not know I was pregnant. There was new life within me and I did not realise. Why? What if it happens again?"

"How far along were you?" Jane asked.

"Two months at the most, the doctor said," Kitty replied.

"Then that is why," Jane reassured her. "When I was pregnant with Thomas I did not know until after three months and it was the same for Lizzy." However, she did not want to tell her they had known much sooner this time. She could not even bring herself to tell her sister she was pregnant. It seemed too cruel. "You would have known soon enough."

"If I had not lost it," Kitty said. "Jane, I feel so guilty. I have lost Bertram's child. I am scared he will hate me for that."

"Kitty, I do not think you husband is capable of feeling that towards you," Jane said. "Has he said as such?"

"No, it has been the opposite actually," she said. "He begs me not to blame myself. I just worry that he will not feel that way in the future. Maybe that was our only chance."

"No, Kitty, you will have children. I am sure of it," Jane decided. "You are not yet twenty after all."

"I had forgotten that," Kitty said with a sigh. "I feel old suddenly."

"That will not do at your age," Jane smiled. "For it will make me very old."

"It has not aged Bertram though," Kitty said. She wanted to change the atmosphere. The whole house was very subdued at present. "He has simply turned into Sir Felix. I cannot say you would not recognise him instead just say you will think you are talking with the wrong Calder. I hope he does not stay this way."

"He will not," Jane said. "It is not his nature."

"I still cannot believe we were going to be parents, Jane," Kitty told her. "I do not know what to think to that. I am not exactly maternal but it does not frighten me to think I was to be a mother. I like the idea of Bertram as a father. When it happens I think we will enjoy it."

"I am very happy being a mother," Jane said, not realising she holding her stomach.

Kitty looked at her strangely, "Jane, are you with child?"

Jane sighed, "Yes. I hoped you would not find out just yet but yes. I did not want to make you sad by telling you."

"I am not upset," Kitty said. "I may find it hard in the future but I will never be jealous of you. I do not want any of our sisters to experience a miscarriage. I will be very happy if you have a healthy child."

"Thank you, Kitty," Jane replied. She felt relieved that Kitty had taken it well. "I wish we could have been pregnant together."

"Yes but I think in several months time when you look like a whale I may feel slightly relieved," Kitty said, smiling for the first time that day. She would always be sad that they had lost a child but maybe seeing an uncomfortable Jane will make her feel better. "I will not be so elephantine."

"Kitty!" Jane exclaimed but was pleased to see her sister more cheerful. "I was not that large with Thomas. Lizzy was bigger."

"Lizzy is not here to tease," Kitty said. "And it makes me feel better. I need not always feel so sad. I am glad you are here."

* * *

"Bertie," Kitty said. They were laid in bed and she had her head on his chest. She very much hoped the doctor would let her get up tomorrow even if it did not include leaving the room. "I have been thinking. We must not let this dominate our lives."

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"I do not like feeling like this," she replied. "It has only been a day but I cannot take it any longer. The servants are cautious around us, it is all so quiet and I feel cosseted. Jane did not even want to tell me she is with child for fear of upsetting me."

"Jane is pregnant?" Bertram queried. That was news to him. "Charles did not say anything."

"That is what I mean," Kitty said. "They have this happy news but are scared to share it. A few days ago we did not realise I was pregnant and we only did once I lost the baby. Why has it become a big issue?"

"You want to put it behind us then," he said.

"Yes. I do not want to seem callous though," she said. "I am not saying that we should forget but we cannot focus all our attention on something we did not know we had until it was gone."

He nodded, "I see what you mean. We need a memorial. Nothing big or obvious but something we can use as a small reminder. Maybe a small tree in the garden."

"I like that," she replied. "Then nobody but us will know what it signifies but we will still have something."

"As soon as you are well then we will buy one and plant it," he said. "From now until that day we will mourn but after that we will get on with our lives."

"I agree," she said. "I was also thinking that I want children now. After coming so close it has made me realise I would like to be a mother."

"I do admit losing the chance to be a father pained me more than I thought it would," he agreed. It had taken him by surprise but he did want a child.

"Then we should start trying properly," she decided. "Once I am well enough."

"We have certainly practiced enough," Bertram smiled. "But, yes, I am of the same opinion. When it happens, though, you are not to exert yourself in any way."

"I will not even try to," she told him. "I will take the opportunity to be justifiably lazy."

* * *

A few days later they stood in their garden. Bertram placed a small rose bush in the hole he had just dug and made sure it was securely planted.

"We do not have a name," Kitty said. "We do not know whether we were to have a son or a daughter."

"Then we are planting it for simply 'Little Calder'," he said. He put his arm round her in comfort.

"LC," she decided, "It will be known to us as just LC. That way it will be special only to you and I as we alone will know what it means."

"LC," Bertram sighed. "Then, LC, we are your parents. We may have been oblivious to your existence until you dramatically showed yourself and are now gone but we will still miss you. We will never forget you either. You made us realise many things and our marriage is stronger because of the heartache you put us though. Goodbye, our LC."

Kitty smiled sadly. It was just what she wanted to say but would never be able to put it like that. "Goodbye, our LC," she repeated and Bertram kissed her.

"Shall we call upon the Bingleys?" he asked and she nodded. "I think it is our turn to visit them and it is a pleasant afternoon. We could perhaps take a stroll in the park later as well."

"Yes, I have that new dress to show off after all," Kitty remarked.

* * *


	3. In which travels to Scotland

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

A/N: This will probably be the last update for a few weeks as I am on holiday and I do not know if I will get the chance to write (hence why this is a day earlier). Then I will be home from university (permanently as I graduate at the end of June) so I cannot promise as regular updates as I have done for the past few months. I will try my best though and I love writing these so I have an incentive to write. I will just need to be settled at home again and I need to find a job /. By the way, the dates for the last two chapters are March 1804 and May 1804, I forgot to put them.

Louise x

* * *

**In which travels to Scotland are undertaken. **

Summer 1804

"You do not trust me, do you?" Bertram asked. Sir Felix stood next to him looking around the hall at Grantholme with a pained expression. It was summer after their wedding and Mary and he had decided to undertake the trip to Scotland they had talked about in the previous December. Mr and Mrs Calder were to look after Grantholme whilst they were gone.

"No," Sir Felix said, bluntly. "I would not entrust you and your dear wife with a garden shed let alone an entire estate."

"That is unfair, Felix," Bertram protested. "I do partly own a business after all."

"True," Sir Felix said. "But there you have the help of Mr Bingley. Here there is just Mrs Calder. Mary and I will probably return to find you have wallpapered everywhere because it looked 'nice'." Grantholme was either painted or oak panelled, remaining much as it was a few centuries ago. His father and grandfather had resisted the temptation to cover plain walls with coloured paper and he had always said he would be no different. It would spoil the character of the house anyway.

"Now, Felix. We have not even done that to the townhouse and it is ours," Bertram objected. "Why would we do it to Grantholme?" His brother just looked at him. "I am starting to regret volunteering to look after Grantholme. Tell me, just how many messages a day are we going to receive with instructions and queries?"

"It depends how much you treat this as a joke," Sir Felix replied.

"I would not dare," Bertram told him. "I value my life after all."

Sir Felix then softened his stance towards his brother. "How are you? How is Mrs Calder after her illness?" He had noticed something different in Bertram since they last met and he put it down to the miscarriage as well as his brother's growing interest in business and industry. The serious side to him that Sir Felix always knew he possessed was making itself known at times. For the most part Bertram, though, was his usual lively self.

"We are both doing fine," Bertram told him. They both had periods of sorrow when thinking of their lost child but it was done in private and in outward appearance all was normal for the Calders in Town. "Kitty is fully recovered now. We still think about what we have lost but we do not dwell on it. We have come through it."

"I am glad," Sir Felix said. "Mary and I were worried when we received your letter."

"We are trying for another child now," Bertram said with a smile. "We have realised that it is time to become parents. You never know, we may conceive at Grantholme."

"Not in _my_ bed, you will not. Or Mary's for that matter," Sir Felix said immediately and in all seriousness. "They are reserved for the conception of our children alone. Do you understand?"

Bertram grinned, "It is something you will never know. We may _tell_ you we did not but how will you know the truth?"

"I will lock the doors of both chambers and take all the keys with me," he said. "Keep you and your overactive loins out of my chamber."

"I promise," Bertram still had a cheeky grin on his face. He knew he now had a different way of teasing his brother. He wondered just how many of Sir Felix's special refuges he could claim as possible places of conception and, more importantly, whether he would be convincing enough. "Shall we rejoin the ladies?"

* * *

York

"Where shall we go first?" Mary asked as they walked out of the inn where they were staying.

Sir Felix just smiled. "Come with me."

"Is it a surprise?" she asked. She had been anticipated this trip for a while. She trusted her forever knowledgeable husband to led her to many interesting things, even though they had not reached Scotland yet.

"Not really," he replied. "We will see it soon enough. It is not easy to hide. I could only do that if I made you walk with your eyes closed and that would lead to unwanted stares."

"Do you know York well?" she asked.

"Yes, for business and pleasure," he replied. He liked to visit the place but also had sometimes seen tenants tried at the courts there along with other business matters dealt with. "Unfortunately mainly the former lately. You have no doubt heard by now of the time when Ezra Lumsden killed his wife in the churchyard seven years ago." Mary nodded. Whether or not she actually desired it she had been acquainted with the various scandals and misdeeds that had occurred in Grantholme over the years. "He was tried and hanged at York for it. Fortunately, though, other crimes have been less sensational." He took her hand.

"I believe I have already seen where we are going," she said with a smile. "It is hard to miss."

"I suppose that is the case when the 'it' in question happens to be the largest Gothic cathedral in Northern Europe," Sir Felix said. He knew it was somewhere where his wife would want to go. Since raiding their library her interests were no longer limited to what went on within a church but also what it looked like. "However, you have to stand next to it for the full experience. You have only seen the towers at present."

They walked along the street, passed the assembly rooms and recently built terraces from the last century. Mary looked around her taking it all in but she could not ignore their goal in front of them. Presently Sir Felix stopped them outside of the western main doors.

"May I present York Minster? Take your time," he said softly as she stood open-mouthed in amazement as she looked at what was in front of her.

She started at the central doorway with its intricate carving on the arches. She briefly wondered how long it would have taken to do that. She looked at the three statues flanking the top part and tried to figure out who they could be. She reckoned the one in the centre was a past archbishop. Even the doors were not spared when it came to detail and mimicked the patterns on the stone. Her eyes were drawn to the huge window that dominated the front. It had such beautiful tracery at the top, it looked like leaves and at least appeared symmetrical from where she stood. There must have much effort put into make it so perfect. The whole façade was split into three with the centre and then the two towers and their bases. She marvelled again at how it was all so carefully carved. She could see many statues even though they were hard to make out at a distance. The gargoyles amused her. From what she could see they all looked to have their own unique expression. She was sure one of the ones above the window was sticking its tongue out and she believed she could even work out a green man up there.

"If these funny faces are meant to scare one it is not working," she remarked to her husband who smiled. "Do you think there were other statues? It looks that way."

"Yes, I have always thought that," he replied.

"It is so tall. I feel dwarfed," she said in awe. "I wonder how they did it in so much detail. I am sure we are missing out stood down here. We need to be closer."

"Then you had better pray for wings," Sir Felix said.

She took her husband's hand, "Come on. I want to see more." She looked at the church stood next to the minister. "Poor little thing. It is no less beautiful but will always appear to be the unfortunate relative next to such magnificence."

"St Michael-le-Belfry," Sir Felix told her. "I do not think it will do too badly. It has its own claim to fame. Guy Fawkes was christened there."

"All the same I cannot keep my eyes off its stately neighbour," Mary said. They walked along the path between the two buildings. "I like that," she commented as she looked up.

"The rose window. Yes, it is very interesting," he agreed.

She then turned away. "Let us go down here. Such pretty little streets," she said.

"Yes, if we follow them we shall come to what they call the 'Shambles'," he said. He looked down at the waste running along the street and grimaced. "I am glad we have a change of shoes at the inn."

Mary shook her head, "You are worse than a woman. These people live in this." She looked around her. "They manage without complaining." Apart from London this was her first experience of a city having not joined Sir Felix on his few trips to Manchester. "Look at how the houses nearly touch each other across the street." Living in the country all her life and only being in the prosperous parts of Town had not prepared her for how narrow and crowded it was.

"Yes, this would be my idea of hell," Sir Felix said.

"Yes, because you are so neurotic about dirt," Mary said with a smile.

"No, because it is impossible to escape from your neighbours," he opposed.

"Has York a castle?" Mary asked changing the topic. She knew there was no point in continuing to tease him about his obsession with cleanliness.

"In a fashion," Sir Felix replied. "It has a tower – Clifford's Tower – that might sate your desire for a castle."

"Then we shall find that," Mary decided.

Sir Felix took her through the streets until they got to the tower. "Does that satisfy your need?"

Mary smiled as she looked at the keep on its hill. "That is an almost perfect little hillock for it to stand on. I take it we are not allowed to enter for it would be an amazing view from the top."

"No, unfortunately," Sir Felix said. "Shall we return to the inn? I believe it is the time when the landlady said food will be provided."

"Yes," Mary said and took her husband's arm. "We shall have to return here for a longer visit in the future. I believe I like York."

* * *

Edinburgh

"I am conducting an experiment," Mary told Sir Felix as they walked around the assembly rooms in Edinburgh. "A social experiment, I suppose you could call it."

"Interesting," Sir Felix said. "I am intrigued. Am I part of it?" He had noticed his wife being extra thoughtful recently when they had been in company.

"Partly. My marriage to you is the reason for it," she replied. "I have noticed how differently I have been treated now I am Lady Mary Calder instead of Miss Mary Bennet. Although you think otherwise I was always 'Miss Mary, the plain Bennet sister' when growing up. I was boring and lacking in talent and conversation. Now I have noticed it is suddenly 'Lady Calder is striking in appearance' and I am now interesting and accomplished. I cannot believe I have changed that much since my marriage. I have simply gained a title."

"I see your meaning," Sir Felix said thoughtfully. He had noticed it too. When they had visited Longbourn he had watched as those who had treated her almost as an irritation at Bertram and Kitty's wedding were now fawning over her.

"I just wish I was able to walk around as merely 'Mrs Calder'," she said. "With my way of dressing and manner nobody would guess what my husband is." She still wore similar clothes to what she had done at Longbourne. She sometimes went for better quality cloth but she saw no reason to start dressing in bright colours and silks. She would not be happy in finery. "I expect I would be treated as an inferior who had no right to be here."

Sir Felix smiled craftily. "It is a pity I know people here. It would be interesting to be simply Mr and Mrs Calder for a day."

"You would never pass. Your bearing is too refined," she told him. "Although you might be seen as an upstart. Watch the next time we speak with somebody, especially if they are an old acquaintance of yours who is meeting me for the first time. I wager he will be very charming to me but almost condescending. If there is a lady she will border on sycophancy."

"Sir Felix!" They were interrupted by a voice. They turned around to see a couple coming towards them.

"Mr Matheson," Sir Felix greeted him. They had known each other briefly at university. Mr Matheson had occupied rooms near Sir Felix in their college not that Sir Felix was inclined to mix with the other students. "My dear, this is Mr Hugh Matheson. I knew him at Cambridge."

"I heard you were married but I could not believe it," Mr Matheson said. He turned to Mary.

"Yes. May I introduce my wife, Lady Mary Calder," Sir Felix said.

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Calder," Mr Matheson said. "This is my wife, Mrs Matheson," he indicated the lady, or rather girl for she looked younger than Lydia, next to him. It was hard to determine her character. When they were married at that age Mary usually passed them off as being silly like her sister but there was something quite calculating about Mrs Matheson. She would not like to meet her in ten years time when she was sure would no longer be married to Mr Matheson but someone more powerful. However, she also looked perfectly pleasant and unassuming. "Everyone is surprised you are married. You said you would never find a girl suitable."

"I obviously have," Sir Felix replied.

"I take it you are a bluestocking then, Lady Calder," Mr Matheson said jokingly. "Sir Felix would settle for nothing else."

Mary smiled sweetly, "No, I am a fortune hunter," she replied. She did not take too kindly to his tone. Sir Felix coughed in shock. It was a reply he could see himself giving. He had either taught her well or it was further evidence of how well suited they were.

"Oh-ho! You have quite the wife, Sir Felix," Mr Matheson said, approvingly.

"I have a wife, yes," Sir Felix said slowly and tersely. He hated that sort of tone directed towards his wife. No woman should be spoken of as if she was some sort of well-trained dog.

"Excuse me, I see somebody I need to speak with," Mr Matheson said and went with his wife.

"Mary!" Sir Felix said in surprise. "I am shocked."

"I know. What has come over me?" she said but smiled nonetheless. "I just sensed we were coming close to 'You have a clever wife there' as if I was some novelty."

"He does find the fact that women can easily be as intelligent as men a puzzler," Sir Felix said. "Only believes women read to impress men. That is probably why he left. He either fears you will make him look like an idiot or 'infect' his wife."

"I suppose I will be known as disagreeable now," Mary said.

"That will make the two of us then," Sir Felix only pointed out. "Carry on, my dear, it will only make people less likely to call upon us and then we will have peace."

"Shall we have a wander around outside?" Mary asked. "My face is aching from having to look so pleasing."

"Ha!" Sir Felix laughed and they went outside. "New or Old Town?"

"Both," Mary replied.

"Shall we be genteel first and walk along Princes Street?" he asked and Mary nodded. She took his arm and they started walking.

"It is all very nice," Mary commented as they went. "And I think that is the problem I have. Beautiful houses, obviously wealthy but it has only a little character." It was very similar to the area that the Darcys, Bingleys and Calders had their townhouses in London. "In the future it will seem more impressive."

Sir Felix turned around, "Come on. We are going to the Old Town." Mary smiled.

As they walked along the bridge linking the two parts Mary stopped and looked over the side.

"There used to be loch there," Sir Felix told her.

"I know, that is why I am looking," she replied. "I think they must have found a host of interesting objects when they drained it."

"I suspect there was a fair few bodies," he said.

"Felix!" she said. "I hope they gave them a decent burial once they were discovered."

"I am sure they did," he said.

She took his arm and they carried on walking. "The Scots enjoy building on slopes," she remarked as they went uphill. "I suppose it is a logical place for a castle though." They walked up onto High-street and went towards Lawn-market and the castle. Mary looked at the buildings. "They are tall considering they are just houses."

"The Scots call them 'tenements'," Sir Felix said. "They go underground as well, so I am told. They have been known to reach over ten storeys. The wealthy used to live in similar until they moved to the New Town. So now the poor live here, many families in one building."

"I had guessed that," Mary said. "Why do they not do anything about it? The authorities I mean. It cannot be safe or hygienic."

"There are too many living here," Sir Felix said. "And it is ultimately down to landlords."

"If Grantholme grows rapidly, which may happen as industry is ever approaching," Mary started. "We must prevent Grantholme turning into something like this or what we saw in York."

"I agree," Sir Felix said. "That is why I am putting pressure on Bertram to make sure the workers in his mill are well looked after. I will do the same to Mr Bingley if need be. It is their duty."

"You are wonderful." Mary said. She then looked ahead. "I see a proper castle this time. I mean up close. I have already seen it from afar. Could we go in?"

"I doubt it. It has soldiers billeted there and probably prisoners from the war," Sir Felix told. "I will not let you near a multitude of dirty, desperate men."

"I am sure the French are not that bad," she said with a smile.

"I meant the British Army," he replied. "They will be starved, and I do not mean of food."

"No, I think not," Mary disagreed, "I believe I saw prostitutes earlier. Come on, it is getting dark."

"What do you think of Edinburgh then?" Sir Felix asked. It was one of his favourite places.

"I like it very much," she replied. "If we ever have to flee Grantholme we should escape here. I have found more intellectual stimulation than even in London. It would suit you at least. Another place we must come to again."

* * *

Carriage interlude

"I see the Scots prefer building their castles on rocks," Mary commented as they passed Stirling. She was sat looking out of the window as she had done for a good part of the journey. She had not wanted to miss a thing as they travelled through both the north of England and Scotland. Sir Felix on the other hand had been hoped each leg of the journey would pass quickly. Carriage rides tended to upset his stomach. Their trip to Longbourn had thankfully been undertaken on mainly flat roads but the same could not be said about the roads in this excursion.

"To be fair this is only the second castle on a crag we have seen," he said, hand on his stomach.

"Lay down, Felix," Mary ordered. Her husband was starting to look a little too pale for her liking. He did as he was told. "Tell me if you need to be ill and I will have them stop the carriage."

"I am sorry. This cannot be fun for you," he said. "Now you see why I prefer travelling on horseback."

"And why poor Bertram used to bear the brunt of your bad temper when you travelled together," Mary said with a smile.

"No, that is because he becomes like a puppy as soon as he gets into a carriage," Sir Felix replied. "If he could yap he probably would. He never shuts up."

"Yet you have tolerated my endless comments and questions," she pointed out. She reached over to put a blanket around him.

"That is because you are motivated by a drive for knowledge," he told her, closing his eyes. The rocking of the carriage was particularly bad that day. "All I get from Bertram is 'I can see a tree', 'You should see that man's hat', 'That cow looks like it has two heads' and so on. Tell me what you see."

"We are passing under the castle rock now," she started. "It is very steep at this angle. I would hate to be an invading army faced with that. It is very imposing. We have turned a corner now and I can see more of the castle. I can also see cannons. Is there part of the army stationed here as well?" he nodded. "Now we are coming to a lovely bridge across the river. There are only a few houses after this. I am glad we are taking this trip. I have always wanted to travel. I have now gone further north than any of my sisters."

"I thought you had already achieved that living at Grantholme?" he asked.

"The Darcys went to the Lakes," she told him. "But now I have been to Scotland and that so far beats any of them."

"I will take you to the Continent when it quietens down. I enjoyed my travels there," he said. "I want to see France again. Our father took us before the Revolution but during my tour of the Continent after university it was deemed too dangerous to go so I went to Germany, Italy and Spain but only briefly in France. I really want to visit when Europe is not being terrorised by a tiny madman."

"Felix!" Mary exclaimed. "That man could be ruling over us if his attempts to invade succeed. They think he might. He will expect reverence"

"In that case – Emperor Tiny Madman," he said. "Or whatever he is calling himself now. Actually, I do not think it is emperor yet. Consul then. When there is peace in Europe we will go. Real peace this time."

"I will look forward to it. Shall we see more of Britain before that?" she asked. "Felix? Felix?" She gently touched his shoulder when she did not receive an answer and found he had fallen asleep. A combination of lying down, closed eyes and the gentle rocking must have got the better of him. At least it would stop him feeling ill. She lightly caressed his cheek and went back to looking out the window.

* * *

Glen Coe and Fort William

"It is raining," Sir Felix remarked as he looked out of the carriage window.

Mary looked at the mountains that surrounded them. "I do not care. It adds to the atmosphere. Where are we?"

"We are coming to Glen Coe," he replied. "You wished to see it because of the massacre."

"I do not!" she protested. "I have heard it is very beautiful. I have read about the massacre but that is not the reason. You make me sound morbid." He grinned at her. "Stop teasing or I will tell the driver to go over all the bumps."

"Look out now, Mary," he told her and she did as he said. "Glen Coe."

"Wow," she said without thinking. She took in the steep mountains, some unfortunately at present covered with clouds. She had never seen such high mountains before. She crossed to the other window. "Goodness, Felix, there is one this side that looks like a hedgehog. It is very spiky. It is quite eerie, though. I am glad I have you and the carriage. I have changed my mind now. We should live here."

"Really?" he replied with a smile. "Do you think you could cut it as a crofter?"

"No but that is why I have a rich husband," she told him. "I believe we do not need to work for a living." She sat back down as she had spent the last few minutes with her head stuck out of the window. "Are we to Fort William next?"

"Yes," he replied. "There is an inn there, I think. It will be about an hour before we get there, though." He lay down. "Wake me up when we get there. The driver knows the inn." He curled up underneath the blanket as Mary picked up a book. She did not read much as she found the view of the loch they travelled alongside on the way to Fort William to be much more interesting. She was annoyed to find she could not remember its name and reaching for the guidebook would wake her husband. She did not mind. It was still very beautiful regardless of whether she could name it and now the sun was making an appearance. She would enjoy the view.

"Felix," she woke her husband as they stopped in front of the inn in which they were staying. "We are here."

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. He sat up. "Are you hungry now or shall we wander first?"

"Wander, I think," she replied and he nodded.

He opened the carriage door, got out then helped her out. "Sort us out at the inn," he said to the driver then offered his arm to Mary.

"Yet another place for keeping soldiers," she said as she noticed the fort.

"Yes but it to be expected in _Fort_ William," he pointed out.

"It could be an old name," she told him. "Still, I believe this is a nice place to be stationed."

"Not when you have hundreds of hairy Highlanders bearing down on you." He then smiled. "He says loudly in an English accent."

"What is that mountain there?" she asked as she looked in the opposite direction to the fort. "And I mean the largest before you make comments about there being many mountains."

"It will be Ben Nevis," he replied. "Fancy a walk up it?"

"I think for once I will say 'no'," she told him. "I may be fond of walking but there are limits. I cannot see you managing anyway. You become breathless when we walk on the moors near Grantholme."

"Only when I am with you," he protested. "It is not my fault my wife walks abnormally fast and is considerably fitter. I am becoming better now I have started fencing with Mr Darcy." He had recently taken that up again after several years break. It was preferable to have a regular partner in Mr Darcy rather than whoever was available when he trained, or Bertram, who tended to run away.

"Mmm," Mary smiled. "I like you with a sword in your hand."

"That is possibly the most sensual tone I have ever heard you use," he said with a smile.

"You have awoken things within me since our marriage," she replied. "And your body is suited to that way of moving."

He blinked, "We shall have to take long journeys more often. Or I will take up fencing permanently. Are you hungry? _Not_ in that way," he hastily added. "I am not my brother."

"I am still shocked," she said. "It is unusual to see you with an appetite for anything. Except reading and working."

"It is the clean air," he said. "Come on, let us see what the inn has to offer." They walked back to it. "Innkeeper?" he asked as they went inside. A man appeared. "I am Sir Felix Calder. My driver checked us in earlier. Do you do meals?"

"Yes," the innkeeper replied. "Please sit. I will bring you the speciality of the house."

They sat at a table and soon after two plates were brought to them. They contained mashed potatoes, a few vegetables and some sort of minced meat. "Thank you."

They tucked in eagerly because they had gone most of the day without eating. "This interesting meat," Sir Felix commented. "I believe it is quite pleasant though rather seasoned."

"Mix it with the potato," Mary told him. She was enjoying it though had her suspicions as to what it could be. She did not say it aloud as she knew her husband had very particular tastes when it came to food. "It is better that way."

"Yes," he replied. "Excuse me, innkeeper? What is this?" he pointed to the meat with his knife.

"Haggis," the innkeeper replied just as Sir Felix took another mouthful.

Sir Felix put his handkerchief up to his mouth but Mary was relieved to see he eventually swallowed. "Interesting," he almost squeaked. Mary turned away to hide a smile. "I have heard much about it and now I have tried it." The innkeeper went away with a sly smile. He often did this to his guests, regardless of which country they came from for it was just as amusing to see the Lowland Scots choking it down as it was the English. "Mary, I have just eaten parts of some sort of animal that I would never even feed to my dog."

"Stop complaining," she told him. "You were enjoying it before you were told what it was. You eat sausages."

"They are different," he said and hesitantly ate a few more mouthfuls. He would be fine if he did not think about what was in it.

"Yes, I think haggis has more of the organs in it than sausages," Mary said.

Sir Felix turned pale then abruptly left the table and shot outside. Mary bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. She had perhaps gone to far when she had reminded him what it contained. However, she felt no remorse and did not hurry to follow him to see if he was feeling better. Her own dinner would become cold.

"Lady Calder," the innkeeper appeared again. "How is your husband?"

"He is a little unwell. He is not a great lover of meat," Mary said. Well, that sort of meat, she mentally added. "However, I am enjoying it myself but maybe you could bring sandwiches for Sir Felix. Preferably without any sort of animal in it." The innkeeper bowed and left.

Sir Felix came back. He sat down and eyed Mary's meal with wariness.

"It will not bite you, Felix," Mary said with a smile.

"I should not be so sure," he replied. "It probably still has teeth somewhere."

"Namby-pamby," she said, shaking her head. "Well, you will not deter me. I like it."

* * *

Linlithgow Palace

"You wanted to walk around a castle," Sir Felix said as they walked towards the ruins of Linlithgow Palace. "So here we are."

"Palace," she corrected him. "You called it a palace before."

"Palace then," he said with a smile. "But as it is a ruin we can visit it."

"It is a strange looking building," Mary commented as she looked at the exterior. "It is not how you picture a palace or a castle to look like. It is almost like a fortress. Was there a fire or something?" she asked. It looked like it. The palace was not a ruin as such but it did lack a roof. "I did not have the time to read about the place." It had been an impromptu visit as they were travelling home. Mary had been upset that she had not been able to visit a sufficient amount of castles. They had seen them from afar but had not entered many.

"Yes, Cumberland torched it after the battle of Culloden," Sir Felix replied. "It has strong Stuart connections. It was a royal palace and where Mary, Queen of Scots was born. Most importantly for Cumberland, though, is that Bonnie Prince Charlie stayed here for a short time."

"Then we are treading where royalty have gone before us," Mary said. She took his hand and they walked in. "I was expecting it to be solid but there is a courtyard," she remarked. "What an interesting place this is. Look at all the windows. Five half towers," she counted. "All it lacks is a roof."

"And floors in some parts," Sir Felix pointed out. "Not to mention window panes."

"You cannot have everything," she said. "Come on. We will see what is through that grand entrance." She pulled him along to the large doorway that was obviously once the main entrance. "There is a way out. We can see it from the other side then." She walked then suddenly stopped and grabbed his arm. "Long way down!" she exclaimed in shock as she realised there was no ground level with the doorway.

Sir Felix rolled his eyes and held onto her, "Never go blindly anywhere. I am not inclined to lose you just yet." He pulled her away. "Come on."

"Let us look inside now," she led him into one of the spiral staircases and they wandered up and down and in many rooms. "There is much more than I thought Imagine, though, people used to live in here. I could never see Grantholme as a ruin but you never know. I doubt the Stuarts believed this would become deserted."

"Do not tempt fate," Sir Felix said. "Not with my brother presently in charge."

They found their way outside and looked around in surprise, "We went into a different door than we have come out of. We have nearly walked round the whole palace without knowing," she remarked.

"Yes, imagine what it was like being a servant," Sir Felix said. "And you thought Grantholme was confusing at first."

"Outside now," she said. "I want to look at that loch we saw." They walked past the other entrance. "But not out that way," Mary commented as they went. "I have learnt my lesson."

They left the palace and started to walk round it. Mary looked at where she had nearly gone over, "That would have been quite a drop. I think there must have been a drawbridge there once."

"A pity it is still not there with you around," Sir Felix said. "It is an extraordinary looking building. I do not think I have ever seen anything like it. It is very angular, especially when you compare it with Edinburgh or Stirling."

"I like it," Mary decided. "It is imposing as a royal residence should be. Along with the loch it must have been a nice place to live. I mean it may be missing parts now but imagine what it was originally like."

"I am impressed with the church as well," Sir Felix said.

"I like the colour of the stone," Mary remarked. "It looks quite orange in parts. It gives it character, I think. I am very satisfied with the parts of Scotland I have seen but I am only more impatient to see more. There is much more left to discover."

"Well then, we will not be short of destinations," he said. "We will return, Mary, as many times as you wish."

* * *

Yorkshire Dales

"Stop here," Mary said as she looked out of the window. "We have enough food for a picnic. It makes sense to see a little of the Dales as we are passed through them. Stop, driver!" she yelled through the window.

"If we stop here we can travel through to Grantholme without stopping. It will take a few hours to get back," he commented.

"Then it is logical to break here," Mary replied as she alighted from the carriage. She grabbed the basket of food. Sir Felix followed her. "Sit there." She pointed out a suitable place just off the road and overlooking the valley. They sat down and Mary opened the basket. "I thought we were travelling uphill and I was correct. The higher we go the paler you become."

"Do not mock, I cannot help it," he complained. "I do not know how you remain so unbothered by the rocking. I hope it has not ruined the trip for you."

"No," she shook her head. "My main objective was to spend time with you whilst we discovered places together and I have done that. I have also learnt that we can stop the carriage and get you to the roadside in less than a minute and that knowledge will always come in useful, especially if our children take after you." She surveyed the food in front of them. "Avoid the fruit and cheese. I have noticed they make you worse. The bread and cold cuts are fine as is the salads."

"Yes, my lady," he replied. "You are only saying that so it leaves you with more to eat. I notice it means you get all the strawberries."

"How fortunate," she smiled. "It is a beautiful place up here."

"You will be wanting to live here now," he said. She has already decided that nearly everywhere they had visited would be a good place.

"No, it is within fairly easy reach of Grantholme," she replied. "We can take day trips instead."

"So you are quite willing to put me through the misery of a carriage ride," he said.

"Do not be such a baby," she said with little concern. "Sleep instead."

They finished eating and Sir Felix put his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and he kissed her. "It is very peaceful here. I like it," he said.

"So do I," Mary replied.

"I do love you," he said softly. "These past weeks have quite possibly been the happiest in my life. You are an excellent travelling companion."

"I can say exactly the same," she told him. "On all points. I do not care what my sisters say, I have landed the best husband." She sighed, "It is time to go home though."

"Yes," he said, reluctantly. "Come on. Knowing our luck, Bertram will probably burn Grantholme to the ground in the few hours it takes to get from here to the house."

* * *

"It is still standing," Sir Felix said as they came in sight of Grantholme Hall. There was considerable relief in his voice, too much to pass his comment off as a joke.

Mary smiled, "Did you really imagine anything to the contrary?"

"I will reserve judgement until I see the interior," he said. "And I am convinced all furniture, rooms and anything else is just as we left them."

"I just hope Kitty has not left my sitting room full of ribbons and lace," Mary said. "I do not want to spend the next few months coming across unfinished bonnets and half-complete purses in various draws. Her words 'I shall enjoy being lady of the manor' not long before we left filled me with fear."

"The mere presence of Bertram filled me with fear," Sir Felix said. "I hope he has managed. I do not question his intelligence just his ability to maintain his concentration."

"They are waiting," Mary remarked as they drove up to the house. Bertram and Kitty stood near the doorway.

Sir Felix studied his brother from a distance, "He does not look guilty at least."

"Poor Bertram," Mary said. "He is hard done to by you."

"He is used to it," Sir Felix replied. "And I would stop if it looked to bother him."

"Guess what?" Bertram said as the carriage stopped and they alighted.

"I do not trust anything that begins with 'guess what'," Sir Felix groaned.

"No, it is good," Bertram said with a smile. "Grantholme has remained unscathed. Everything is in order."

"Oh?" Sir Felix was suspicious. His brother was too eager to reassure him.

"You can check each and every one of your ledgers if you wish," Bertram told him. "You will find nothing amiss. I have enjoyed myself. Did you have a good trip?"

"Very," Sir Felix said. He was sad it was over. There was no better pleasure than spending the days in close confinement with one's wife, regardless of the many times he had needed to dash out of the carriage. "We will tell you everything over dinner if you wish."

* * *

A/N 2: I have not included as much description as I wanted to for each of the places because I have visited them personally a couple of centuries too late. I wanted to err on the side of caution especially for places like York and Edinburgh, which obviously will have changed considerably since 1804. I would feel a bit daft describing something that I later found to have been built in 1832 or something :). It was hard even for places that cannot have changed much, like Glencoe, because I have no idea where roads and the like were. The earliest book I found for Scotland in my university was from around 1850. So I apologise for missing an opportunity to describe and I will include some pictures in a link in my profile to provide some sort of visual representation (but again centuries too late).


	4. In which Mrs Calder’s patience is tried

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I'm still adjusting to being back at home after university. I don't know when the next one will be up but I'm working on it.

Louise x

* * *

**In which Mrs Calder's patience is tried.**

December 1804

Bertram sighed in relief as he finished reading the letter that had come from his brother that morning. "I am still safe," he told his wife.

"Are you going to be so afraid of every letter Sir Felix sends?" Kitty asked him. "It is five months since we looked after Grantholme."

"If Felix finds that I spilt something on one of his business letters he will kill me," Bertram replied. "He will kill me because I was eating over his correspondence, he will kill me because I did not tell him and he will kill me because I did not file it away correctly. Do you want to become a widow and our child to be fatherless?"

Kitty smiled and patted her stomach. She was about five months pregnant according to the doctor's calculations. They were very pleased with the news but it was a hard month at present as they reckoned December would have seen the birth of their miscarried child. Still, they had better things to focus on now. Kitty's pregnancy was progressing well and, touch wood, had seen very few complications. The only thing that was bothering at present was seeing the eight-month expectant Jane resemble a small island as she lay upon her bed. It would be her turn in a few months and she was still unsure how she felt about that. However, she liked her little bump at present as it was still manageable. "You have only brought it on yourself," she said, referring to his brotherly problems. "Now, come here," she beckoned him over. When he came she picked up his hand and placed it on her bump.

He smiled when he felt the baby kick, "He is active again today. He seems to be a morning child."

"Yes, _she_ does," Kitty said light-heartedly. There had been many playful debates over whether they were to have a son or a daughter.

"You do realise only one of us will be proved right," Bertram said.

"Yes," Kitty said. Deep down she, and the same applied to Bertram, did not care whether they had a boy or a girl. Such was their nature that any child would be thoroughly loved and probably indulged beyond what was sensible. "But I am unconcerned. I believed I would even love it if I ended up giving birth to a kitten."

"That would produce interesting gossip," he replied with a smile. "Especially as our tomcat regularly sleeps upon our bed."

"It would certainly make us a fortune in the freak shows," Kitty said as she opened a note. "It seems that today we are to receive a visit from Mrs Wickham," she announced. "Fortunately no Mr Wickham though." She frowned, "I do not know what to think to that. It seems so long since I saw Lydia and I believe I have changed at least. I think it will be nice to see her again, though," she decided.

"I am indifferent having never really met her apart from our wedding but if it makes you happy then I will welcome her," Bertram said. "Just promise me you will not overdo do it."

"I promise," she said and kissed him. Now that she had thought about it she was pleased she was seeing Lydia again. They had been so long apart after all.

* * *

"A Mrs Wickham to see you," a servant told Kitty as she sat in her sitting room. Unusually for her she was knitting. It was not something she had done when she was younger but now the prospect of a baby had awoken something in her. She had the urge to knit various little things that would fit a tiny person. Their forthcoming addition to the family would certainly not lack bootees and woollen bonnets which were the only things she could knit. Kitty had not quite managed to produce anything else that would fit a human child. The only way that would be possible was if it was born with three arms and a very small head.

"Please, show her in," Kitty said and she stood up to greet her sister.

"So, you have done very well for yourself," Lydia said without preamble as she came in. She had spent the time between being shown in and being taken to her sister looking around the parlour as she had been told to wait there. "I had not realised your husband had so much independent wealth." She had thought he was merely from a good family but judging by the house and Kitty's attire he had the money as well. Had she known that then she would not have wasted so much energy is trying to get funds from their other sisters. Kitty would surely be more responsive to her attempts. It had always been easy to get 'loans' from her before marriage. "Is he at home?"

"No. My husband has business with Mr Bingley," Kitty replied. "How are you?" she asked. Judging from Lydia's somewhat worn appearance Mr Wickham obviously still had his debts. However, she thankfully looked far from poverty-stricken just not as affluent as her sisters.

"I am well," Lydia said quite dismissively. "Of course I would be better had I the fortune of my sisters in marriage but I do not complain. You look happy."

"I am," Kitty replied with a smile. "We are to expect a little addition soon." She smoothed down her dress to show off her stomach.

"So am I!" Lydia exclaimed. "I have just lately found out. We can be expectant together! It is so long since we did anything together."

"Yes," Kitty replied. She was surprised to find that the prospect did not appeal to her as she imagined. It did not fill her with excitement as it had done with Jane. She wondered why. It had always been Lydia she was closest to growing up. Maybe it was because with Jane there was Mr Bingley who tended to share Bertram's enthusiasm. She could not see the same bond of fatherhood developing between Bertram and Mr Wickham. Seeing Lydia now made her realise just how apart they had become. "Jane is also expecting."

"Oh," Lydia said. "That is her second then. I thought getting married first would give me an advantage but I see not."

"It is not a competition, Lydia," Kitty smiled. "Our families can only increase at their own rate. It cannot be hurried."

"Well, I hope it is not a girl," Lydia said. "And you are not to have a daughter either. I alone will give Mamma another granddaughter." She wanted a girl and it annoyed her that Elizabeth produced a daughter before she did. Their mother often spoke of her desire for little girls to spoil and Lydia was not so ignorant to realise that her marriage was far overshadowed by those of her sisters. Producing daughters would return her to prominence in their mother's eyes. That could only be done if her sisters had sons. It obviously did not register that her mother would be glad of grandsons as well, especially those who were heirs to the estates of Pemberley, Grantholme and Brisden.

Kitty sighed, "I do not think we are able to choose."

"I was told that if you ate cherries, filled your house with flowers and thought of little girls when expecting you would produced a daughter," Lydia told her haughtily.

Kitty laughed, "Then I am to have a confused child for I have thought of both girls and boys. I do not like cherries, though, so I suppose I will never have a daughter."

"Do not mock me," Lydia said. She looked around with an impatient sigh. "I am bored. Let us go shopping."

"If you want," Kitty replied.

Bertram came into the room, "Mrs Wickham," he bowed when he saw Lydia.

"Mr Calder," Lydia replied when curtsying. She did not attempt to hide her curiosity as she took this opportunity to scrutinise her sister's husband. She had paid little attention to him at their wedding preferring to use it to boast about her own 'perfect' marriage to her old neighbours. She had to concede that he was handsome but naturally nothing to her Wickham.

"You have returned early," Kitty remarked.

He shook his head. "I am only come back to pick up some paperwork. Charles thinks we can form a contract with a merchant in Bristol," he told her excitedly. "Quite a prosperous one too. If it works out it will mean a decent amount of business for the Manchester mill at least. More than I expected at this stage but Charles does not seem surprised." He smiled, "He is making me do the negotiating this time."

"In that case remember to let the poor man speak," Kitty lightly teased her husband. Mr Bingley had told her of Bertram's tendency to chatter incessantly with potential business associated though he had admitted it was a useful tool in bargaining. They were apparently so overwhelmed that they would agree to anything.

"I will try to remember," Bertram said. "What are you doing for the rest of the day? Anything exciting?"

"Shopping," Kitty told him with a smile. He was always teasing her about that as it seemed to be her usual answer.

"Spending my money faster than I can earn it then," he replied. "Remember not to overexert yourself." Kitty rolled her eyes and mouthed 'fusser' at him. "I do not know when I will be back. I will send a message if it is to be late. Goodbye, my dear. Mrs Wickham," he bowed and left them.

"I did not realise he was in business with Mr Bingley," Lydia said with interest. "Is Mr Darcy included? I hope my Wickham has not been left out. We need money after all."

"No, it is just Mr Bingley," Kitty told her. "Be assured it was completely independent of Mr Darcy or Sir Felix and not designed to omit Mr Wickham. Bertram and Mr Bingley possess a shared interest in industry and they are putting it to good use."

"Oh," Lydia said with a shrug of the shoulders. She felt they were missing little. Claiming one's husband was in industry sounded boring compared to saying he was in the army. "You are wedded to a businessman then. How boring."

"He was not a businessman when I married him," Kitty said. "He is not one now. If you knew him properly, Lydia, you would no call him so. It is too much of a serious and mature description for my husband."

"Do not make excuses, Kitty," Lydia told her almost condescendingly. "He has something that far makes up for it. Think of the money!" She already was, at least for their upcoming shopping trip. Surely her sister would not object to buying a little present for her poor sibling. "Shall we go out now?"

"Yes, if you want," Kitty replied.

They went to put on their jackets and bonnets.

"You no longer have your red bonnet," Lydia commented. She had liked it when they had matching bonnets and cloaks before.

"No," Kitty looked down at herself and then at Lydia who still had her outerwear she had worn during her latter years at Longbourn. "I have become very fond of blue. Bertram likes me in that particular colour."

"I wear red because it is the colour of the army," Lydia said importantly. "It goes with my Wickham's uniform. Come on, I want to see London again."

They went outside onto the street. Kitty took the lead and Lydia was willing to let her for once. It was obvious by her clothing that her sister knew the best shops.

"What was Newcastle like?" Kitty asked.

"Pleasant but so provincial! Some of the people there!" Lydia exclaimed. "It was almost as bad as Longbourn for dullness. I wish I could choose where they station my husband. Wives of officers should have that privilege. There has been talk of Ireland. Imagine! I hope it is Dublin. My Wickham will not like being where it is isolated. You are fortunate to be always in Town."

"Yes," Kitty replied. "The townhouse was a wedding gift from Sir Felix. I am eternally grateful to him. I could not imagine living anywhere else."

"I should like living in London," Lydia mused. "Especially with my Wickham often being away. It would be nice to be near my sisters." She sighed. "I should like to live in a large dwelling such as your townhouse. I should think it must seem empty at times with just yourself and Mr Calder. All the rooms going to waste."

"I have not thought of it like that," Kitty said. She then wondered whether Lydia was hinting at something. "But we are very happy and it will not be so empty soon as it will be filled with the sound of little feet."

"Ye-es," Lydia said slowly then smiled sweetly at her sister. "I hope you are very content."

"Thank you," Kitty replied. "I hope you visit us."

"Shall we look in that shop?" Lydia asked. She dragged Kitty into it. "Look at the parasols. The wife of the commanding officer held an Indian tea party and the other younger wives and I took parasols because, well, India is hot and I suppose you would need them more over there. We pretended we were actually in India for the day. It was such fun! Although the food was strange, I must say, I have never tasted anything like it. It was called," she frowned as tried to remember, "a…curry. I hope Wickham will be stationed in India. I think it would be amusing." Kitty smiled. It was nice to see Lydia genuinely excited. Usually it always seemed as if she was boasting or trying to prove something. "Look, Kitty, bracelets. Oh! That one matches my necklace Wickham gave me." She sighed, "But I cannot afford that. What a pity. I would like something to go with the necklace."

She moved on to something else but kept looking longingly back at the bracelet. Kitty turned to the shopkeeper. "I will take it," she said reaching into her reticule for her money.

"Oh, Kitty!" Lydia squealed as she heard. "Thank you!" She put it on her wrist and put her arm up to admire it. "Now I have something from my husband and something from my favourite sister that I can wear together." She took hold of Kitty's arm. "Come on." Kitty curtsied at the shopkeeper before Lydia left the shop.

"Where do you want to do now?" Kitty asked.

Lydia shrugged her shoulders. Shopping was always depressing when you had limited funds and even she did not expect anything else from Kitty. "I can see officers in the park," she said eagerly. "Come on. It will be like old times." She tried to pull her sister along.

"Lydia!" Kitty protested. "I am married and with child." She suddenly remembered something, "As are you. What would Mr Wickham say?"

"Wickham will not say anything," Lydia replied. "I am a favourite with his fellow officers and he still dallies with the women anyway. It is the way our marriage works."

Kitty resisted Lydia's tugging at her arm. "It is not the way mine works."

"Mr Calder will never know," Lydia tried to persuade her. "It will be fun. It is years since we have watched the soldiers."

"I will know," Kitty said. "I could not stand there flirting with a man. It is unfair on Bertram. Please, Lydia, come away. It is wrong. We are married now."

"You sound like Lizzy or Jane," Lydia groaned. "No, worse, you are just like Mary, who, by the by, has made a very good marriage. What is the story behind that?"

"What do you mean?" Kitty was puzzled.

"What is wrong with this Sir Francis that means the only wife he can find is Mary?" Lydia asked curiously. "Is he odd? Or maybe he is not that rich? What is he like? Did he want a boring, dowdy wife so he would not be overshadowed? Has he asked hundreds of women before and Mary is the only one that accepted? Is he 'scraping the barrel' with her?"

"It is nothing like that," Kitty replied, defensively. " And his name is Felix not Francis. They simply found they had much in common and they were frequently in company as Bertram is his brother. They fell in love. Sir Felix is highly intelligent and shares Mary's love of knowledge. They are ideally suited and are very happy. I believe they spend the days reading and talking."

"Dull, dull, dull," Lydia said dismissively. "That is not worth riches and a title. I hope your Mr Calder is not like his brother."

"I will say nothing to that," Kitty said. "You have not met Sir Felix enough to judge his character."

"He is married to Mary," Lydia told her. "That is enough." She had no desire to spend much time with Mary's husband. The fact that he was married to her sister told her all she wanted to know. Mary, of course, had once thought Mr Collins to be an ideal husband. Her sister's judgment was not to be trusted so for Lydia the elder branch of the Calders would only be a potential purse. She then sighed in annoyance. "The officers have disappeared now. Marriage has made you boring, Kitty."

"It has not!" Kitty protested. "I have only matured as a wife should. I have responsibilities now."

"You should have married an officer like me," Lydia decided, only really half listening to Kitty. She had long since decided that all her sisters must be jealous of her marriage. "That is never dull."

"I am sure it is not," Kitty agreed. After all, why should it be tedious when one's husband was forever being chased for his debts, being found with whores or drinking copious amounts of alcohol. However, she would not say that to Lydia. She felt the need to prove she had grown up even if her sister had not.

"Yes. Perhaps when my Wickham is stationed nearer Town you can visit," Lydia said. She then sighed, "My husband is very brave to be involved in this war. I have the bravest husband out of my sisters, you cannot deny that." She looked at her sister as if she was daring her to say otherwise.

"Well, I could not see Bertram in the army, that is for sure," Kitty said. That was not strictly true, he had once said he would join if only for the uniform and she agreed. She would love to see Bertram dressed as an officer.

"I think you might have let me speak to those officers," Lydia grumbled. "I might know them. It would have been nice to see old friends. This day has not been as I hoped. You are changed, Kitty, you are no longer fun."

"We are not children anymore," Kitty protested. However, she did not think she was any less 'fun' it was just she sought it in different ways now.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "And we must grow up," she groaned. "I am sick of all that."

"Well, you will have to when your baby comes," Kitty told her.

"Is that what you have become boring and serious," Lydia shot back, "Because you are expecting?"

'No, it was because I lost a child,' Kitty thought to herself but did not say it aloud. She did not feel like confiding in Lydia about the miscarriage. "Perhaps. I want to be a good mother."

"I will be. I will teach my daughter all about looking pretty and being charming," Lydia insisted. "Like Mamma did for us. I will be fine."

"Well, you will always have your sisters to turn to," Kitty told her kindly.

"Yes," Lydia replied with a shrug. "I need to go now as my Wickham will soon return. I will write." Kitty nodded and hugged her sister then waved as she went off.

* * *

"How was Lydia?" Jane asked as Kitty came into her chamber. Despite her boasting that she had not been large when expecting Thomas the same did not apply this time. Lately she had found that the only place comfortable was the bed so she stayed there for the majority of the time. She asked the doctor whether he thought it was twins but had been told that she was not big enough. Personally she thought that it was impossible to become any larger. Unfortunately, she still had a month to go.

"She is not changed," Kitty replied taking a seat. "How did you know she was coming?"

"Charles told me. He heard it from your husband," Jane replied. "I wonder why she did not write me."

"I think she was looking for somebody who would not lecture her," Kitty replied. "Wickham does not appear to have changed and it seems she has picked up his bad habits. It is a marriage based on mutual flirting but not with each other."

"You sound quite disapproving, Kitty," Jane laughed.

"I suppose I am. I confess I still like an officer to look at but I could never flirt as Lydia seems wont to do," Kitty told her. "I love Bertie too much for that. I am just beginning to realise why everybody was so disapproving of Lydia marrying Wickham. I thought it so exciting and romantic at the time for her to elope with an officer and I admit I was jealous. Now I see he is wrong for her. She is not unhappy, or did not appear to be, but she did seem to be always convincing me, and herself I think, of how perfect and wonderful her marriage is. She does not love Mr Wickham in the same way I love Bertie."

"It has taken you this long to realise," Jane said, gently. Elizabeth and herself had long known that the love between their youngest sister and the 'dashing' officer was not pure. "Lust is the basis of their marriage."

"But lust is an important part of my marriage," Kitty insisted. "Honestly if it was not for this," she prodded her bump, "I would be forever ripping his clothes off but it is getting hard to manoeuvre now. It takes planning and we have lost the element of spontaneity."

"Lust is not the only thing though," Jane said. "You love Bertram deeply as I do Charles. We will always have that and I worry what Lydia will be left with when she falls out of lust."

"I am glad I was prevented from becoming like Lydia," Kitty decided. "Had I filled Lydia's place after her marriage then Bertram would never have married me. Can you imagine Sir Felix allowing him to become attached to a girl like Lydia? I would not have stood a chance."

"We always said we were doing it for your own good," Jane reminded her. "I am glad we were successful. I can only wish now that Lydia was happier in her choice."

"You know, Jane, I believe she is but in a way we will never understand," Kitty said thoughtfully. "I think she thrives on the crises Mr Wickham creates for them. She is like Mamma in that way. Only content when she has something dramatic happening to her. I soon expect to hear her complain about her nerves. I am glad I do not live her life. I was jealous once but not now."

* * *

"She left you to walk home by yourself then," Bertram grumbled as Kitty told him about her day. They had long found out that his chair in the study was far big enough to fit them both in, even with Kitty's ever-expanding stomach. "I should have ordered a servant to accompany you. What was Mrs Wickham thinking to leave an expectant woman alone in the street?"

"Lydia never thinks," Kitty replied as she played with his hair. He had promised her that he would keep it a little longer in length than he was used to and now curls were starting to appear. She liked it very much. "I was near the Bingleys so I paid them a visit. They sent me back in their carriage."

"Good," Bertram said. "I knew I could trust Charles to look after my wife properly. Did you enjoy yourself though?"

"For the most part," Kitty replied after a little thought. "But either I have changed or Lydia has changed as it was different. She annoyed me at times though I hope it did not show. Considering we are both married and expecting we now have very little in common."

"At least you will not see her often then," Bertram told her.

"I think she was hinting at moving in here," Kitty said.

Bertram's eyes opened widely with alarm, "I hope you gave her no encouragement."

Kitty laughed, "I did not! I would not be upset if she moved to London, as annoying as I now find her, but it will certainly not be into this house."

"Good," Bertram said. "I would dissuade even Felix from moving in. It is to be just us and our children."

"I would permit Felix and Mary a small stay," Kitty decided. "After all we have acquired his townhouse."

"Naturally," Bertram agreed. "I would even go as far as to say they could stay as long as they wanted. Of course, the likelihood of their leaving Grantholme for a long period is very small. Their little trip to Scotland means it will be years before Grantholme is left again."

Kitty giggled, "If Sir Felix finds what you did to his correspondence it will be years before he trusts you to look after Grantholme."

"True," Bertram said. "If that he does find out I hope my brother never steps foot in London again otherwise I am doomed. I would hide, you know, if it came to that. I would migrate to Australia. Pray, my dear Kitty, that he does not develop any murderous intentions towards his brother. For all our sakes." He smiled, rubbed her stomach then kissed her. "Although, when you get bigger I will just use you as a shield."

* * *


	5. In which Master Frederick Calder

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

* * *

**In which Master Frederick Calder is introduced.**

September 1805

"His first big trip," Kitty said softly as she looked at the baby asleep in her arms. They were stood outside their townhouse waiting as their carriage was prepared. "It has taken him five months to meet his northern relations but I am glad we waited. He is an easier age now."

Bertram smiled and reached out to stroke his son's cheek. "Freddy?" he said.

Kitty knocked his hand away, "You will wake him and I refuse to have a screaming baby in the carriage. At least give us a few hours peace. It will be bad enough with Thomas and Robert Bingley." The latest addition to the Bingley family had been born at the beginning of the year. It had not been twins as Jane had feared but instead she had produced a son that her doctor had declared to be probably the biggest baby he had seen in almost thirty years. Robert was now a wonderfully chubby and very happy eight month old.

"I will be happy to see Felix again," Bertram said. The last time had been the previous summer and he could not believe it had been a year since he saw his brother and Grantholme last. "It has been too long."

"Do think have everything we need?" she asked. "Grantholme has not really been inundated with babies."

"I am sure we have," Bertram replied. "I think that as long as he is fed and warm our son does not care about anything else." He smiled. "Pass him to me."

Kitty complied but warned, "If you wake him…"

Bertram looked down at the child in his arms. It had taken most of the past five months for him to become used to being a father. He was wonderful, though, little Frederick Calder his son and heir. He was a placid baby and, predictably due to parentage, was full of smiles. Bertram reckoned he was his best achievement.

Kitty watched them with a smile. She had been reluctant to let anyone hold him in the first few weeks of his life. She had not wanted or expected to be so possessive nor had she an urge to keep him from his friends and family. It was just a need to protect this tiny, vulnerable person who before had been safe and secure within her. She had soon changed, though, mainly because her husband could not keep his hands off their son. She did not mind as she enjoyed watching them together. Frederick had inherited his father's expressive face.

"It is still uncanny," they heard a voice behind them and looked up to see Charles Bingley.

"Do not say it," Bertram said in a warning tone.

"It cannot be helped," Bingley said. "I have never seen anything like it. Young Frederick could be your twin if not for the age and size difference. If he does not grow to be just like you I shall eat my hat."

The youngest Calder did have an unusually close resemblance to his father. It was not unknown for a child to look like his parents, of course, but Frederick seemed to do it in almost every way that a baby could. Family and friends deemed it impossible for there to be such an extent of similitude but soon changed their minds upon seeing father and son together.

"How is Mrs Bingley?" Bertram asked changing the topic. Although he had enjoyed the comments at first he had soon tired of people marvelling over the likeness every time they saw them.

"She is fine," Bingley replied, laughing. He got the hint. "She will be along shortly with the boys and our luggage."

"I am glad Mamma and Papa are visiting Pemberley first," Kitty said. "I do not think I could survive travelling to Grantholme in the same carriage as my mother."

"You will have Thomas instead," Bingley reminded her. "Two is a very curious age. I hope three is better. He was inspecting the contents of my desk yesterday." Bertram smiled and looked at his son.

"Do not look so smug, husband," Kitty said. "Just wait until Frederick is mobile. Now, get in the carriage so we are ready when Jane arrives."

* * *

"There is a letter from Mrs Bingley," Mary said to her husband as they sat at the breakfast table.

"Oh. I trust everything is well," Sir Felix replied but with little curiosity. As hard as he tried he could not develop any interest in the small talk of correspondence between the family. He was always grateful that his wife did not expect him to eagerly listen to any letter she received. "Has young Master Robert become any larger?"

Mary smiled. The size of the youngest Bingley was destined to become family legend. "He is growing as every baby should but they believe he is finally the size of a normal child his age instead of being twice as big," she replied. "But we shall soon see him ourselves, she says they are arriving with the Calders."

"I wonder what manner of child our other siblings have produced," he pondered. "They do not seem to have the tendency to be large themselves."

"I am more concerned about what we will produce," Mary said. "But I do believe any child of Bertram and Kitty will lack the ability to be quiet regardless of the size."

Sir Felix gave a short laugh, "I am still in a state of disbelief that my little brother is now a father and has been for some months. Well, well, I suppose it was bound to happen soon enough. With the Darcys are expecting another addition as well our family is in danger of becoming very baby-obsessed. I suppose it will be our turn next." She gave a weak smile but did not answer. "Mary? What it is?"

"It is nothing, certainly not at this time of the day and at the breakfast table," she replied.

"Mary. You will not escape," he told her. "What is it?" He would not have his wife in danger of being unhappy.

"When will it be our turn?" she asked. "We have been married for well over a year now."

"Are you so desperate for a child?" he enquired. He had not thought she would be bothered that it had not happened yet. She was not overly maternal after all.

"No. Yes," she sighed. "I am unsure. It is just Grantholme needs an heir and that is my duty now."

"We are barely married, relatively speaking," he told her. "There is plenty of time."

"But what if it never happens?" she was not reassured. "What if we do not have a son or indeed any children at all?" This had been playing on her mind for a while now.

"Then Grantholme is left to Bertram and then young Frederick," Sir Felix replied. For all that Grantholme meant to him he sounded unconcerned at the prospect of not having an heir.

"I cannot believed you are not worried about this," Mary said. "I thought that is why you married."

"I married because I love you and, though I hate the term, I find you to be my soul mate," he replied. "I never married because I wanted some sort of brood mare. It is not your responsibility and certainly not so soon in our marriage. I cannot deny that I would like a son and heir but not at the expense of your wellbeing and happiness. I may tease you to the contrary on many occasions but you mean far more to me than Grantholme ever will." He took hold of her hand and entwined their fingers. "I am sure your mother filled your head with nonsense about the importance of providing little Calder heirs but I have never viewed you in that way. Children will be a bonus, not a necessity and you are not to worry about it any more. Before I met you Grantholme was not to have an heir anyway as I did not see myself marrying."

"I still want a little Felix though," she said.

"And I want a little Mary, regardless of any protests from you," he told her. "Although you frequently disagree I believe it will be to our daughter's credit if she is like her mother. God will provide us with what he sees fit."

"That should be my line," Mary told him. Although he had a firm belief in God, she could not have married a man who did not, it was not to the same zealous extent as her. "You never talk in that way."

"I am sure I have at some point," he replied. "Now, do you promise not to worry about this?" She nodded. "Good." He whispered in her ear. "Because when we have the house to ourselves again we can make an heir."

Mary blushed. "Felix! What has come over you?" she sounded horrified. "Do not say such things. The servants might hear." He just grinned. "At least I can be assured that in a few days time when our visitors descend upon us I will not here such talk."

* * *

"I can see Grantholme," Bertram said as he looked out of the carriage window. "Pass him here," he said to Kitty and she did. Bertram put his son up to the window and pointed his finger. "See, Freddy, Grantholme. Papa grew up there." Frederick just looked at his father then stuffed his fist in his mouth. "That is your answer to everything and, no, my finger is not ending up where your fist has just been." He removed his hand from his son's grasp.

"Me see," Thomas Bingley scrambled over his father's knee, not wanting to miss anything. "Bris'n?" He was used to looking out of the window to catch the first glimpse of Brisden Hall when the Bingleys travelled north. He looked at his father in confusion when he was not met with the expected view.

"Not Brisden, son, we are visiting Uncle Felix's house," Bingley explained but his son did not look enlightened. "And Uncle Darcy will be there with Aunt Darcy and Anne-Frances."

Thomas smiled at the latter, "Annie!" It was a while since he had been in the company of a child his age.

Kitty smiled. "It will be nice to show Frederick off. Who is waiting?" he asked her husband who was still at the window.

"Just Felix and I do not think he is especially waiting for us. He is talking with his steward," Bertram answered. "It is a day for business and I cannot see my brother changing that just because he has visitors. He has seen the carriage now, though."

The carriage stopped. "You are early." Sir Felix said to its inhabitants. "The others are inside."

"We were anxious to see you," Bertram said.

The door was opened and Mrs Bingley alighted with Robert followed by Bingley and Thomas then Kitty.

Thomas looked up at Sir Felix. "Who you?"

"Thomas!" Mrs Bingley hissed. "Sorry, Sir Felix." She curtsied as well as she could with Robert in her arms.

Sir Felix just smiled then turned his attention to the remaining person in the carriage who was presently wrestling with his son.

"Brother," Bertram stepped out of the carriage with a big grin as Sir Felix helped him down. He held a squirming Frederick with his other arm.

"Bertram," Sir Felix could not keep the smile from his face. It had been too long since he saw his little brother. "And this must be…" Frederick was thrust into his hands before he had time to finish. "Young Frederick," he ended, looking at the child with bewilderment. It had been a long time since he had held a baby, in fact he was sure the man stood before him was the last. Frederick just grinned up at his uncle. Sir Felix looked up at Bertram in shock. "Good heavens! He looks…"

"Oh!" Bertram exclaimed in annoyance. "Please, do not say it."

"He is your double," Sir Felix went on regardless. "There can never be any doubt as to who is father is. This is uncanny."

"It is nothing of the sort," Bertram complained. "I am his father so naturally he should look like me. I think it is unfair on my wife that there is this much focus on his likeness to me. He is her child as well." Kitty just smiled at this. She found it amusing.

"But Bertie this goes beyond mere likeness. He is you in miniature just with less hair and less fond of the sound of his own voice," Sir Felix said just as Frederick proved his uncle wrong by launching into a long but animated babble. "Now could you please take your son back," he said passing him to Bertram. He frowned when he realised his cravat was now undone. "Obviously inherited his father's fidgety fingers as well." He looked disapprovingly at the parents as he made a mental note to ensure his nephew never got into his study or library.

"Oh dear," Bertram said to his son, "Now meet Grumpy Uncle Felix. I think we had better ask him where we will find more appreciative relatives."

"In the drawing room, I believe," Sir Felix said. "At least there you will find enough ladies in there to coo over your son."

Kitty smiled. She had been impatiently waiting to show Elizabeth her little son, and Mary, though she expected that would be little reaction from that particular sister. Marriage had not made Mary any more excitable. "Excuse me," she took Frederick off her husband.

"Sir Felix," Jane bowed and went away with Kitty.

Sir Felix looked at Bertram and Bingley and rolled his eyes. "Come on, let us find Darcy and Mr Bennet before I lose my sanity being alone with you two."

"Oh little Frederick!" Mrs Bennet squealed as Jane and Kitty arrived in the drawing room. "And Thomas and Robert! All my grandchildren are here. Except my poor Lydia's child."

Elizabeth turned to Kitty and Jane as they sat down. "Have you see Lydia and little Leonora?" A very happy Lydia had given birth to a daughter a few months previous.

"Lydia, you mean," Jane said then sighed. "The child is now Lydia due to the fact she looks just like her mother."

"Though only Lydia seems to see it," Kitty put in. "She looks more like Mr Wickham to me."

"So Lydia Senior thought it would be a 'crime' not to call her Lydia as well," Jane continued. "So it is now Lydia not Leonora."

"Well!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "That will create confusion. I have told everybody it is Leonora. Still, we hardly ever see Lydia."

Kitty, not able to wait any longer and wanting to prevent Mrs Bennet from launching into lamentations about missing their sister, turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzy, look what I have. Is he not perfect?" She handed Frederick to her sister with a proud smile.

"He is a very fine boy," Elizabeth replied as Freddy grinned at her. The metamorphosis of Kitty from a silly, immature girl to a responsible woman was now completed by the birth of her son. Even though her words may have suggested otherwise, her expression and the letters sent since the birth suggested a much more mature Kitty. Frederick was not regarded as some new plaything, as Lizzy feared was Lydia's attitude towards her daughter, but with the realisation that motherhood was difficult at times yet rewarding. It was therefore a relief that she no longer had to worry about her younger sister. "And so much like Mr Calder."

"I know," Kitty said. "However, I must warn you not to make such comments in front of my husband. The novelty of having a son that closely resembles him is wearing thin. He tires of hearing it commented upon so often."

"But he must not!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. "It is a blessing and Frederick will grow up very handsome because of it. Oh, Lizzy! Give him to me." She motioned excitedly and Elizabeth, after a nod from Kitty, passed Mrs Bennet her grandson. "And Robert." Jane also gave up her son. "Annie! Thomas! Come sit with Grandmamma." Young Miss Darcy and Master Bingley looked up from inspecting Anne-Frances's doll and walked over to their grandmother. They sat next to her. Even at two years they were well-trained when it came to Mrs Bennet's excitable moods. "Oh! I am surrounded by my grandchildren. It is what I have always longed for!" She then looked at her remaining daughter in the room. Mary had been silently reading a book, taking advantage of her position of mistress of the house to do so. "It will be your turn soon, Mary."

Mary looked up, "Yes, Mamma." Keeping in mind her promise to Sir Felix before she was not worrying about when it would be her 'turn'. She was helped by the presence of her niece and nephews. The lack of heirs was much easier to tolerate when other people's children were screaming in your ear whilst you were trying to concentrate.

* * *

"Bertram?" Sir Felix stuck his head out of the door of his study. He beckoned him over with a finger.

Bertram went over to him with a guilty smile he could not help. Sir Felix had that unforgiving look on his face. He had a feeling he was about to be scolded for something though he could not think what it would be. He had not been back at Grantholme long enough yet to do anything wrong. "Brother?"

"Do not give me 'brother'," Sir Felix said. "Come here," he pulled him into the room and over to the desk. "Come on. Now," he searched in a drawer and pulled a piece of paper, "What is this?"

Bertram glanced over at it, "A letter."

"Clever boy," Sir Felix said. "Now tell me, is there anything amiss or unusual about this letter?"

Bertram look a closer look at it then frowned. Surely it could not be...? Yet it was, there was that unmistakable brown blob, still very clear after a year. "I can explain," he said.

"What is it?" his brother asked. He been saving this up for many months now until he could see his brother face to face.

"There is a distinct possibility it could be soup," Bertram replied, preparing himself.

"Soup. Right," Sir Felix said. He was dangerously calm. "Do we remember, perchance, what I said I would do to you if I caught you eating in my study?"

"I was not actually in your…" he then met his brother's eye. "Yes."

"Good," he said. "You should count yourself fortunate. I am becoming rather fond of your little son and I do not wish to deprive him of a father. He is the only reason you are still alive at this moment. However, dear little brother, if you ever, _ever_ spill anything on my paperwork or my books again I can assure you now it will be the last thing you will ever do. I do not care if you are six-and-twenty with a family. Now shoo. Your wife and son will be missing you."

* * *

"I do not think I have ever seen you shoot, Sir Felix" Mr Bennet commented as the men walked on the moors. He was the only one lacking a gun. It was not his desire to come along but Mrs Bennet had become insufferable with her nagging about 'bonding' with his sons.

"That is because he cannot hit a thing," Bertram put in before his brother got the chance.

Sir Felix glared at him. "Be quiet, Bertram," he said, in annoyance. He did not wish to have his deficiencies exposed. "I lack the opportunities. It is a social event and there is nobody in the locality with which I would shoot. It would be pointless to go alone," he answered Mr Bennet.

"Papa always found enough people to shoot with," Bertram pointed out. Again, his brother glared at him. It was as if he was trying to make up for the lost months when he was unable to tease his older brother.

"I am not Papa," Sir Felix said. The look he gave him told Bertram clearly that if he carried on a little 'accident' would happen involving him and a gun. "I suppose it has never appealed to me."

"I am of a similar mind, sir," Mr Bennet said. "I can think of much more pleasurable activities."

"It is different up here from what I am used to," Mr Bingley said. "I have noticed that at Brisden. The moors provide a novel experience. I think I prefer shooting here."

"That is fortunate," Mr Darcy said. "Considering this situation is likely to be encountered at Pemberley, Grantholme and Brisden. You have little opportunity elsewhere."

"That is not strictly true," Bertram put in. "Charles and I have made a number of business agreements during a shooting party near London."

"Is that not dangerous?" Sir Felix wondered aloud. "If they do not agree with your terms they could just shoot you. And they say business lacks excitement."

"It is exciting," Bertram protested.

"Yes," Bingley agreed. "We businessmen are not taken seriously enough. We have the satisfaction of seeing the source of our money."

Sir Felix just smiled. "Look around you. I own this. I grant you due to being moorland it is rather desolate but I do believe it is a rather visual proof of income. I only need to look out of my window to see my wealth and I am sure Darcy feels the same."

"I can see that," Bingley said. "I have Brisden after all but in business you can actually see the figures."

"As you can with our ledgers," Darcy pointed out.

"I still find manufactories and trade far more stimulating than managing Brisden," Bingley said. "I cannot help but see that is where the real wealth will be."

"And either way the rich man will still shoot birds," Mr Bennet commented.

"Or at least attempt to," Bertram said with a cheeky glance at his brother.

"I am not averse to hitting you, Bertie," Sir Felix said calmly. "We are among family after all." Bertram smiled and he went ahead with Bingley and Darcy leaving Sir Felix and Mr Bennet alone.

"Have you no intention to shoot then?" Mr Bennet asked.

"Not particularly," he replied. "I have to admit my little brother is speaking the truth. I would find outings such as these more fulfilling if the birds would stay still. It tends to be rather embarrassing."

"It baffles me at times," Mr Bennet said. "Mrs Bennet would prefer it if this was a regular feature of my life back at Longbourn. The company is tiring though. There only so many times a compliment on a man's aim can be paid. How goes life up here? Mary still appears to be happy."

"Yes," Sir Felix replied. "Marriage has amazed me. I am never tired of her presence as I am always with others, even Bertram. I have to confess I am frustrated at the presence of guests because Mary and I never seem to be alone."

Mr Bennet took no offence at Sir Felix's apparent desire for his absence. He was never found of visitors at Longbourn so could understand his eagerness for peace. "The natural progression of marriage will soon mean your days of calm are numbered. Even the quietest of children still make themselves known."

Sir Felix looked away in a way that was strangely shy for him. "That is an area that has the potential to become troublesome. Mary is becoming bothered by the lack of happy news in that matter. I am coming to find that her anxiety is catching. She is trying not worry but all her sisters are now mothers and Mrs Bennet…" he trailed off. This was the first time he had voiced his own concerns aloud.

"Is not exactly subtle in her desire for grandchildren, especially of the male heir variety," Mr Bennet finished. He knew his wife's letters to her daughters contained constant queries on the subject of pregnancy. "In fact she has replaced her obsession with marrying her daughters to rich gentlemen with them providing the heirs of the aforementioned rich gentlemen. Tell Mary not to worry but also to warn her than it does not become easier with her mother once she is expecting. Mrs Darcy has become quite paranoid as Mrs Bennet continually reminds her that she may be carrying the future master of 'Pemberley and Derbyshire' so must be very careful. It will not be any happier for Mary as she will be the mother of the future Calder baronet."

Sir Felix smiled at that. "That had not crossed my mind. I forget that our potential eldest son will be my successor."

"There I cannot give you any advice," Mr Bennet said regretfully. "In my capacity of a father of five daughters and an estate entailed upon some distant cousin."

"Happily Grantholme can be inherited by a daughter, though not the baronetcy," Sir Felix replied. "And in the event of no children then Bertram is my heir and after young Frederick." He shook his head in disbelief. "Singular child in his likeness to his father." He looked at his brother who presently seemed to be undertaking some sort of victory dance, probably due to a lucky shot.

"He should be a happy child at least," Mr Bennet commented in witness to this.

"I should apologise for his behaviour, it certainly does not befit a married gentleman, but I find I am not inclined to do so," Sir Felix said. "It keeps him amused."

Bertram came over to them with a handful of birds. "Look at these!"

"Yes, very barbaric," Sir Felix said. "Have you quite finished killing my birds? We will be due back for dinner."

* * *

"Good heavens, Felix!" Bertram exclaimed as he looked out of the window. They were presently enjoying an evening in the parlour. The children were asleep so they were taking advantage of peace and quiet. Being Grantholme this mainly involved reading although the knitting presently undertaken by Mrs Bingley and Mrs Calder was deemed a 'useful' enough occupation for the house. Bertram, as per usual, had soon grown bored of being so still and had gone for a turn about the room. He had been stopped in his tracks by the sight out of the window. Every one looked up at his anxious tone. "There is something ablaze out there!"

Sir Felix shot up from his seat and rushed to the window.

"Is it near, sir?" Mr Bennet asked.

"It is Grantholme," he replied with dread. He turned to his wife in horror. "Mary, it is Grantholme!" To the shock of those who did not know him as intimately as Mary and Bertram he seemed unusually hysterical.

"Are you sure?" she stood up and went to join her. She remained calm. Mary Calder was no more inclined to panic than Mary Bennet had been.

"If it is not Grantholme itself then it is an outbuilding and Grantholme is still in danger," he said. He looked at the others. "Wake the children and go outside. I want everyone out in case the whole house goes up."

"Felix!" Mary scolded her husband for being so alarmist. "There is little danger of that. Round up the servants and we will be able to put the fire out easily. I am sure Papa, Mr Calder, Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley will help." They nodded. "Come now."

They all prepared to leave the room. Mary appeared to have found her forte now she was Lady Calder. She was obviously very willing to take control now her husband was in danger of becoming useless through panicking.

Once they were out of the room the ladies made to do upstairs. "Lizzy," Mr Darcy stopped his wife. "I will go for Anne-Frances."

The mothers in the groups were ushered outside by Sir Felix and Lady Calder as their husbands went to the children.

Hodgkin appeared from down the corridor, "Sir, there is a…"

"I know," Sir Felix replied. "Organise the servants to help put it out. Use water from the pond as well as the well." Hodgkin nodded.

Once outside they saw that it was an outhouse on fire rather than Grantholme itself but as there was a slight wind and the outhouse was near to the main house there was the danger of it spreading.

"What is the situation?" Darcy asked as he appeared with a sleepy Anne-Frances who he passed to his wife.

"Favourable if we act swiftly," Sir Felix answered. "The only part of Grantholme in danger of going up if the fire spreads is the…tower," he paled as he remembered what that particular structure contained. "Oh Mary," he clung to her weakly.

"Felix," she placed her hand on his arm. She was torn between remaining her usual calm self and screaming. All their precious books were now at threat. "There is nothing we can do." It was not a question but rather a fearful admittance. There was no way of safely saving the books.

"No," he said. "Yes, there is. The fire must not spread from the outhouse! Do you hear?" he called out to the others and to the servants that had assembled. "The fire must not spread! Why are you waiting around? Get moving!"

Even Darcy obeyed Sir Felix's order without question. He did however prevent his wife from joining them. "Elizabeth, please. Not in your condition. Stay to look after Anne-Frances." Elizabeth hesitated but did not challenge him as she was often wont to do. She could understand why he wanted her to stay out of it even though she usually objected to being told what to do. She went to join her mother and sisters.

Mary, however, went to her husband's side. She would not remain idle when Grantholme was in danger.

"Mary, go back," Sir Felix told his wife. He would rather see Grantholme reduced to ash than lose Mary.

"No," she said. "We need as many hands as possible. I have no children to look after nor am I with child. I am not predisposed to putting myself in danger, Felix. I have more sense than that."

"You will be hindered by your dress," he told her.

"No more so than you will be trussed up in your waistcoat and cravat," she countered.

"The others are similarly…" he looked around to see that Darcy, Bingley and his brother were stripped down to their shirts now. "Needs must." He undid his cravat and said nothing more to his wife about remaining with the other women.

"I will organise the servants," Mary said. "I believe they will behave in a very haphazard manner if I do not." She went off to find Middleton who was somewhere around.

"Any particular orders?" Bertram asked, appearing from behind.

"Just ensure it does not spread to Grantholme," Sir Felix said. "I do not care what happens to the outbuilding."

"It is all very exciting!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she stood with her daughters.

"I think Sir Felix may disagree," Elizabeth said. She adjusted her hold on Anne-Frances who had fallen back asleep in her arms.

"What a chance for my sons to show how brave they are," Mrs Bennet carried on regardless.

"Sir Felix may lose Grantholme," Elizabeth reminded her, tempted to add something about her mother losing a 'fine house' to boast about. "I do not think he cares about looking brave."

"Grantholme will not burn!" Mrs Bennet scoffed. Things like that did not happen to people like Sir Felix. "That is the stuff of novels."

"It is possible, Mamma," Jane said. "It happened to a friend of Mr Bingley. His whole house burned to the ground."

"Fire, Mamma!" Thomas said as he watched the flames with awe. "Big fire!"

"Yes, Tom," Jane replied as she tried to keep a secure hold on Robert. His brother's excitement was catching to a certain baby watching his every move. "And stay here."

"Look at brave Papa," Kitty said to Frederick who was in her arms. She was watching as Bertram went back and forth from the pond to the fire.

"Kitty, you are as bad as Mamma," Elizabeth complained.

Kitty just smiled. The danger of Grantholme reduced to ashes aside, she was enjoying watching Bertie dashing around dressed only in his shirt and breeches. Yet again she lamented the fact that men always needed to have a waistcoat, cravat and jacket on in 'polite society'.

"Coming through!" Bertram yelled as he ran with a bucket of water.

Unfortunately his brother must not have heard him and he bore the brunt of it as Bertram threw it into the fire. "Bertram!" Sir Felix turned to glare at him, his shirt soaked but, thankfully, it had not ended up over his head.

"I am sorry but I did shout," Bertram protested as Sir Felix took a menacing though soggy step towards him.

"Husband," Mary briefly stopped ordering the servants around and placed a hand on his arm. "Do not let Grantholme burn whilst you commit fratricide."

"That is true," Sir Felix conceded, still staring at his brother angrily. "I will wait instead."

"I apologised," Bertram said. "And you would only complain if we did not help."

"Have you two finished?" Darcy asked as he passed with a bucket. "I do not intend to be fighting fires all night."

Sir Felix gave his brother one last glare and walked back to the pond. Bertram finally give into the urge to grin he had been stifling. The sight of a drenched Sir Felix did amuse him greatly. He then turned his attention back to putting the fire out but vowing to make sure his brother was not near him the next time he threw water. If he gave him a soaking again then he would surely murder him on the spot.

"We are winning," Darcy said to Sir Felix as they stood for a minute. The danger to Grantholme was steadily decreasing and they were succeeding in keeping the flames from the house.

"Yes," Sir Felix replied. "I think I am glad we have guests. The presence of yourself and Bertram, Mr Bennet and Mr Bingley has helped greatly. I thank you."

"It is nothing," Darcy said. "I would hate to see Pemberley in similar danger. What of the cause?"

"I do not know," Sir Felix said, lips set in a line. "I am hoping it is unpreventable accident. I do not know what would be worse – caused by a negligent servant or arson. I have no idea."

"A malicious servant would be easier to deal with," Darcy decided.

"Yes. It would be unfair to tell one he is no longer employed because he is an idiot," Sir Felix said. "He cannot help it."

"Have you suspicions?" Darcy asked.

"I may have," Sir Felix answered. "I do believe one of my servants may find themselves working in an area of the estate where mistakes are hard to make. Come on, back to work. We are nearly there."

"You are still wet," Mary said to her husband as they watched a few servants put out the last few embers of the fire. There was very little remaining of the outhouse but Grantholme had barely even been scorched.

"I know," he replied. "I will kill Bertram if I come down with anything. Actually, Mrs Middleton would probably do that for me."

"_I_ may kill our brother if you become ill," she said, rather uncharacteristically for Mary. She then put her hand up to his face. "You are also very sooty. I think our guests will be shocked to see you in such an unkempt state. "

"Felix, you are all wet," Bertram said as he came over to them.

"I wonder why," was the only thing his brother said to this.

"Do I have to apologise again?" Bertram asked desperately.

Sir Felix studied his brother. He did look genuinely contrite as well as worn out. Sir Felix remembered that he had hardly seen Bertram pause in his efforts to put the fire out. "I suppose I could forgive you. You have worked very hard tonight."

Bertram grinned. "You did look very amusing though."

"I am not feeling _that_ lenient," Sir Felix told him. "Round you wife and child up ready to go inside. We are no longer needed and we have had more than excitement for tonight."

* * *

"Did your business go well in the village?" Mrs Darcy asked Lady Calder as they sat in her sitting room. They were joined by Mrs Bennet, Mrs Bingley and Mrs Calder who were presently cooing over the children.

"As well as can be expected," Mary replied.

"It was about schools for the poor children, if I remember rightly," Elizabeth said.

"Yes. I have had little trouble with a boys' school," Mary said. "As soon as the villages realised it would be a very cheap venture they were very accommodating. However, I am having trouble convincing people of the need for a additional girls' school."

"Is Sir Felix in agreement?" Jane asked.

"Of course," Mary replied. Her husband had needed no encouragement. He did believe in educating women as he said that if there were girls around as clever as his wife and grandmother then it was a necessity.

"Why should you need to send girls to school, child?" Mrs Bennet exclaimed, quite suddenly.

"To teach them," Mary said slowly.

"Whatever for?" Mrs Bennet asked. "You girls did fine without even a governess let alone a school."

"We had other resources at our disposal," Elizabeth said.

"Which the villages do not have," Mary added. "Most of the parents have little education. I would like for the next generation in Grantholme to be able to read and write and that includes the girls. It will be to their benefit."

"How will you do it?" Jane asked. "What will you have them reading?"

"The Bible to start with," Mary replied. "And after that there are many other morally instructive books. They will be taught to be good Christians with the advantage of creating literacy in Grantholme."

"Do you think you will be successful?" Elizabeth asked.

"At the moment, no, but I will not give up," Mary replied. "I intend to use my position as Lady Calder to improve Grantholme."

"Oh, Mary, this is all far too serious," Mrs Bennet complained. "Please let us talk of something else."

Mary sighed and rolled her eyes but obligingly changed the topic. "There is something I must show you. Please wait here." She stood up and left the room.

"Mamma, we were happy to listen to Mary's ideas," Elizabeth said.

"Nonsense," Mrs Bennet opposed. "You cannot talk like that with children in the room. They will become bored."

Elizabeth looked at the children. Robert was fast asleep, Frederick was happily being entertained by his mother and Anne-Frances and Thomas were quietly playing with a wooden horse and dog. The only person in danger of becoming bored was, as per usual, her mother.

Mary came back in the room with a small portrait. She passed it to her mother. "Felix found this."

Mrs Bennet looked at it closely. It was of a small boy and a baby. "Oh! Is this…?"

"Felix is a little over three years and Bertram is about Frederick's age," Mary explained. Her husband had sought it out due to the frequent comparisons between Bertram and Frederick."

Kitty took it off her mother and smiled. "It could be Frederick if not for the presence of an older brother." She gave it to Jane.

"They were fine boys," Mrs Bennet said. "I think their mother must have been proud. Now, Kitty, you need to have a portrait of Frederick done."

"We have though about it," Kitty replied, "But Frederick hardly stays still."

"That is a pity," Mrs Bennet said. "Now, I must show it Mr Bennet." Elizabeth, who now had it, gave it her and she disappeared from the room.

"Bertram will not be happy," Kitty remarked. "He will have even more comments about the likeness now." She smiled and looked at her son. She tickled his stomach. "He will have to become used to it for it will be remarked upon for many years to come." Frederick giggled and gave the others a very Bertram-like grin.

* * *

"Why do guests have to stay so long?" Sir Felix complained to Mary as they watched the last carriage depart after three weeks at Grantholme.

"To torture us?" Mary replied. "'Bad roads' seems to be the most common excuse."

"Then we must appeal to a higher authority to deal with all the roads in the kingdom," Sir Felix decided. "Or perhaps starting breeding horses with wings to reduce the journey time."

"You are so clever, sir," Mary said to him. "Maybe you could devise a way. A faster carriage or the like."

"It is tempting, though I know you are partly in jest," he said. "If we do see a faster mode of transport appearing I wager the inventor will be looking for quicker way of sending away guests."

"I feel for the Darcys," she said. "They had Mamma and Papa for two weeks before they came to Grantholme but Mamma still shows no urge to return to Longbourn. Soon she will be claiming there is no need to go until after Christmas."

"I would have your father to stay," he told her. Mr Bennet had been added to the very short list of people he could tolerate for a long period time and the feeling was mutual. "It is a pity he is always accompanied by Mrs Bennet."

"I believe he would welcome a break from her," Mary replied. She took her husband's arm. "Come on. Time to go inside."

"It will be nice to return to normal," Sir Felix commented as they walked inside. "Just us alone at Grantholme."

"Well," Mary started seriously. "That might be hard in several months time. I think I am pregnant."


	6. In which Grantholme gains an heir

**Title:** Miscellanea  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Sir Felix and Bertram belong to me.  
**Summary:** A collection of stories.

Last one in this collection :) Look out for a new story called 'The Matter of Courtship' in which Georgiana Darcy finally persuades her brother she is ready to marry.

**

* * *

In which Grantholme gains an heir.**

March 1806

"You are not going!" Sir Felix shouted as he faced his wife across the table in his study.

"Excuse me?" Mary asked in disbelief but held her ground against her husband. They were presently experiencing one of the worst arguments of their marriage so far.

"You are not going," Sir Felix repeated, slightly calmer now. "I do not want you to go to a meeting of radicals, especially not the workers." He did not want to see her there for her physical safety and due to the danger of being seen with perceived revolutionaries.

"They are not radicals," Mary protested. "They are only the men of Grantholme. You have known them all your life."

"People of Grantholme or not, I still do not want you to associate with them," he maintained. He was always aware that his, and Mary's after she married him, reading matter could be viewed as seditious. He only escaped because of his known reputation as an intellectual but to be seen attending such a meeting would create many problems for them; especially as he was sure there was a connection to the earlier United Englishmen. "Anyway, I do believe they would not welcome the sight of the local landowner or, rather, his wife."

"I disagree," Mary argued. "I think they will be heartened. We can show our support."

"Ha!" Sir Felix scoffed. "It is no place for people of our class. They intend to spend the meeting complaining about us. My dear Mary you are the last person they wish to see. No, I have made my mind up. I forbid you to attend."

"You 'forbid' me?!" she echoed incredulously. "What right have you to 'forbid' me?"

"You are my wife and nearly eight months pregnant with my child," Sir Felix replied.

"'Your' child?" Mary repeated. "I believe I made some contribution. I will be the judge of whether I am able to go."

"If I had my way you would be confined to bed by now," Sir Felix told her.

"Not this again, Felix!" Mary exclaimed. He had desired her to be bedridden since she had found out she was expecting. "This cannot be endured any longer!"

"If you were not so stubborn it would not be such an issue," he said.

"How am I being stubborn?" she questioned. "I simply want to carry on as normal! I am not turned to porcelain now I am pregnant. I will go to the meeting."

"You will not!" Sir Felix yelled. "You are not to disobey me!"

Mary did not say anything but instead slipped her ring off her finger and dropped it onto the desk between them. The clatter it made echoed in the now silent room as he watched her in shock. She turned on her heel and left the room.

"Mary! Mary!" he called after her. He picked up the ring and went to follow her. He was stopped by Middleton.

"I would not, sir," Middleton said quietly.

"Are you telling me what to do?" Sir Felix demanded.

"I am offering a suggestion," Middleton replied. "She will not appreciate more of the same. You both need to calm yourselves."

"I respectfully disagree," Sir Felix said and left to find his wife. He saw her down by the pond.

"Leave me, Felix," she said without turning round as she heard him approach.

"I believe I have something that belongs to you," he said, holding out the ring.

"That depends. Is it as symbol of our equality in marriage, as you have always claimed, or is it brand marking me as belong to you?" she asked. "I do not take orders, sir. Am I yours to order?"

"You know the answer to that, Mary," Sir Felix replied desperately. "Am I such a callous husband?"

She finally turned to face him. "It is your fault, you know. Mary Bennet was always meek and obedient. Your books have corrupted me. They have taught me to think for myself."

"That was the intention," he said. He offered her the ring again. "Please take it."

She did but did not put it back on. "My fingers have swollen," she explained. "I think it is the pregnancy. I will regret removing it."

"Mary, I cannot stop you attending," Sir Felix said. "I do not want you to but I cannot stop you."

"I have to admit I think I am a little tired now," she confessed. She had become increasingly so as her pregnancy progressed but always understated it for fear of worrying him. She knew it was a normal part of being expectant but he tended to fret over every little thing. "But I would still go if I could. I am not backing down, Felix. I will find another way to show my support."

"I do not doubt that," Sir Felix said. "Please come back inside. You can plan a rebellion in the warmth then."

She smiled and took the arm that he offered. They then went back inside.

* * *

"You do realise that this little thing will be making an appearance in just over a month and it is still nameless," Mary said to her husband. She was laid with her head in his lap on a sofa in the sitting room. It was an unusually affectionate position for them outside of the bedroom but they were satisfied that they would not be interrupted. Sir Felix had his hand on her stomach.

"That is easy. Felix if it is a boy and Mary for a girl," he smiled at her.

"No, that shows lack of imagination," she said. She knew he was just doing it to tease her. "Can we please have a conversation that involves you suggesting more than just Felix and Mary," he give a quick grin as she said this, "_And_is not something like Clytemnestra or Rhadamanthus." She knew what that look on his face meant.

"You are right. Time is running out. I must be sensible," he said. "Something normal like Joseph or Sarah."

"Yes, much better," she said. "But neither inspire me. I want to use something I love. Oliver perhaps."

"That means he could be Noll Calder," Sir Felix pointed out. "Nolly Colly. Anyway, I think my Cavalier ancestors would object to Oliver out of principle."

"You suggest something then," she told him.

"George," he said without thinking.

"So he can be named after Wickham?" she reminded him.

"Damn, that man will always be a thorn in our side," he complained. "Mabel, then, for a girl."

"It is nice, but," she frowned. "Half of the families of Grantholme seem to have cows called Mabel."

"Maria then," he suggested. "After you."

"Mary and Maria are still too close for me," she told him. "I would like something different but meaningful."

"Cordelia? It is a little tragic but you do like _King Lear_," he said.

"Too fancy for us," she decided. She could see Kitty opting for Cordelia but not her. She could not see herself as a mother to a Cordelia. "What about Susan?"

He pulled a face "That is a servant's name."

"No more so than Mabel," Mary pointed out. She had known more maids called Mabel then she had Susan. "Alice?"

"A possibility," he decided. He could live with that. "Juliet?"

"Julia is better, more stronger," she said. "Julian?"

"Not really. I was nearly a Jasper though," he looked thoughtful. "Jasper?" She shook her head. "I thought not."

"This is not easy," she said. She was always conscious of the fact that their child would have to live with the name. "It is a pity the Darcys have used William now. I like William." Pemberley had been blessed with an heir the month before.

"And Frederick is also used," Sir Felix said regretfully. "Something from the Bible? David? Elias? Abraham? Josiah? Ruth? Leah? Deborah? Nehemiah? Zedekiah? Habakkuk? Mehetabel? Jezebel?"

"You were doing well up until the last few," Mary said. "I am not calling my daughter Jezebel nor my son a name that will take him ten years to spell. Simple biblical names please."

"Would you consider Elizabeth or Jane?" he asked. Those names seemed to be an answer to their problems, simple but beautiful.

"No, I like them but nothing after my sisters to avoid possibly offending those whose name we do not use. Not to mention having two Catherine Calders will be confusing," she told him. "I would like to use a family name though."

"Another Thomas?" he asked but knew that could be too confusing.

"No, except as a middle name," she replied. "The same with Frances. Anne-Frances is called by her double name frequently."

"That also prevents us from using Anne," he said in disappointment. Apart from Mary, his grandmother was the only woman he wanted to honour.

"I know," she said. "Adelina is still free though." It was rather elaborate for her tastes but it did hold meaning for her husband and for that reason she could accustom herself to it.

He sighed. "I loved my mother but she not a strong enough presence in my life to warrant honouring. Anyway, Adelina is far too much for a daughter of ours. We had better leave it for Bertram and Kitty."

"Wilfrid?" she asked.

He smiled. "I was hoping you would suggest that. I would like to use Wilfrid," he told her. "There is also Wilfrida or Thomasina for girls."

Mary just looked at him then laughed. "I am not subjected my daughter to Wilfrida or Thomasina. I do see the attraction in Wilfrid for a son. It is definitely a consideration."

"As for a girl's name, I give up!" Sir Felix declared. "Wait until its born and hopefully it will have a label."

"Felix!" she laughed. "Now you are being silly. I will no longer discuss this with you if you are to continue in that way. It is only a short step to Boadicea or Calpurnia again."

"Be reasonable," he said with a smile. "Calpunia Calder would never do. Too many 'C's. Unless we add more – Calpurnia Clytemnestra Calypso Christiana Ceridwen Catherine Cordelia Calder?"

"Right," she sat up. "I am going. I will return when you start being sensible."

* * *

"Hodgkin tells me we are about to experience an influx of carriages," Sir Felix told Mary as he walked into the library. "Our guests, therefore, must be approaching."

Mary stood up with difficulty from the fireside chair in which she was sat. "We must be grateful they decided to arrive _en masse_," she said. "I will only have to endure one set of comments about my size." She joined him by the door. "I waddle like a duck," she complained. "I hope this next month passes swiftly."

"You look lovely," he said.

"I look far from lovely. I cannot see my feet, my complexion is worse than usual, every part of my body is seemingly doubled in size and I resemble a manatee," she said. He opened his mouth to say something but she did not give him the chance. "And do not say anything about my starting my lying-in. I will do that when I am good and ready." She took his arm. "Now, be useful and keep me upright as we great our guests."

"Pregnancy has made you very outspoken," he commented with a smile.

"Good, I am prepared to deal with any nonsense from my family," she said.

They walked outside as the carriages stopped. After what seemed like hours the Bennets, the Darcys, the Bingleys and the younger branch of the Calders had alighted and were swarming around the courtyard. Sir Felix and Mary were experiencing one of the disadvantages of so many guests arriving at once; it was impossible to listen to everyone.

"Look at this," Anne-Frances thrust a doll at them.

"No, my toy first!" Thomas yelled. Robert squealed as his brother took the toy in question from him.

"Thomas, Robert," Bingley briefly broke off from answering Sir Felix's queries about their journey. Jane took hold of Robert as Darcy distracted his daughter. Anne-Frances was stood glaring at Thomas for interrupting her and Darcy could tell they were very close to a tantrum.

"Mary, you do look big!" Kitty cried. Frederick was given to Bertram as Kitty hugged her sister.

"Mary, you should be confined to bed by now!" Mrs Bennet soon drowned the others out by her exclamation.

"I am fine, Mamma," Mary said in annoyance. She turned back to Elizabeth who was in the process of introducing little William Darcy to her.

"Shall we go inside?" Sir Felix said. "It is rather cold out here." They were herded into the house by Hodgkin and a servant. "Our guests have arrived, how thrilling," Sir Felix muttered darkly under his breath then smiled sweetly at Mr Bennet who had heard him.

* * *

"I think my wife is glad to have the company of her sisters and mother," Sir Felix said. He was sat in his study with his various male relatives. The ladies were with Mary in her room. "Although she does not like to admit it I think she is finding pregnancy hard at the moment. She has finally agreed to start her lying-in. I honestly though she would be giving birth before she agreed to rest."

"That is why Mrs Bennet was eager to journey to Grantholme," Mr Bennet said. "Your wife's letters were responsible for many attacks of her 'poor' nerves."

"It is my 'poor' nerves I am worried about," Sir Felix complained. "And I kept receiving disapproving looks from Mrs Middleton because Lady Calder was not in bed. As if I could do something about it."

"You could order her," Mr Darcy told him.

"Would you order Mrs Darcy to something?" Sir Felix countered. Mr Darcy had to agree he had a point. Elizabeth would never tolerate that. "No, I learnt the other day that I cannot enjoin my wife to do anything. Nor do I want to." He then gave a small smile. "She stood up to me. I cannot recall the last time that happened. It was a shock. I am used to getting my own way."

Bertram grinned. "I may try that someday." He had never been successful when it came to defying his brother. Trying to oppose Sir Felix's opinion or decision was like encountering a stone wall.

"It will never work with you," Sir Felix told him. "You will never produce the consequences I suffer when I offend my wife. You will not have any success, I can tell you that now."

"Mary has changed since marrying you," Mr Bennet commented. "I knew marrying you would be good for her. As empty as Longbourn now is I am glad my daughters are all happily married."

"We will bring Thomas and Robert to visit," Bingley said to him. "It will soon seem no longer quiet. Jane is hoping for a girl the next time she is expectant."

"Girls are no more quieter than boys," Mr Darcy put in. "Believe me, I have Anne-Frances. William is proving to be our placid child."

"He is only a month old," Sir Felix said. "How can you tell?"

"The child actually sleeps," Darcy replied. "Annie never seemed to settle. She is very like Mrs Darcy."

"Well, I do confess that Elizabeth was our most active child," Mr Bennet said.

"Then the child Mary and I produce should be calm," Sir Felix decided.

"But then, how do you explain Thomas and Robert?" Bingley pointed out. Considering how relaxed and easy-going their parents were the two Bingley boys were a challenge at times. "Their natures are quite different to Jane and I."

There was a knock on the door and Middleton entered. He went over to Sir Felix and bowed. "Sir, I have been sent by Mrs Middleton to inform you that Lady Calder appears to be in labour."

Sir Felix became ashen. "There is still a month to go," he said faintly. "Are you sure, Middleton?"

"My wife seems to think so," he replied. "As does, obviously, Lady Calder and also her mother and her sisters. There is little doubt. I have sent for Dr Dixon."

"It cannot be," Sir Felix said weakly. "It is too early. I must go to her."

"No, Felix. You cannot," Mr Bennet reminded him. "It is no place for the father."

"What silly rule is this!" he exclaimed in annoyance. He stood up and went towards the door. Bertram followed him and took his arm.

"Felix, please," he said. "The last thing needed is you to become agitated. Stay here, Mary is in safe hands." He led his brother back to the chair in which he had been previously sat. "It will be hell these next hours but we are here. You are surrounded by men who have been through it. Patience is needed."

"I have no patience. My wife is giving birth," he said but sat back down in preparation for the long wait.

* * *

Mrs Bennet burst into the room almost a day later. It had been a slow, torturous time for Sir Felix. He had panicked when he had heard Mary's screams then panicked when he could not. Had it been any longer then the others would have been tempted to sedate him with whisky and tie him to a chair. "Grantholme has an heir," she announced grandly.

Sir Felix shot up from his chair. "A son?"

"Yes," Mrs Bennet started to explain but Sir Felix did not hear the rest. He ran out of the room and hurried up the stairs.

"Mary," he opened the door to her room to find Mrs Middleton alone at his wife's bedside. Mary was unconscious when he had expected to find her awake with their child in her arms. At least that was how he imagined this introduction would be made. "Mary?" he said with dread.

Mrs Middleton came over to him. "It was a hard labour and blood loss was considerable," she explained softly. "Come," she took his hand and led him to the bedside. "There is the danger of infection and fever but she is in good hands."

"Mary?" he repeated again, weakly sinking into the chair next to the bed. Mrs Middleton had rarely seen him this close to tears but it had been an eventful day and his customary façade of indifference was becoming hard to maintain.

"The hard part is over now so she can rest as she needs," Mrs Middleton told him. "A wet nurse is obtained and there are many people to help with the child."

"My son," he suddenly remembered, feeling guilty that he had forgotten about his presence until now. He saw the cradle in the corner and went over to it, though he was reluctant to leave Mary's side. "He is very tiny," he said in shock. The youngest Calder slept on, oblivious to his father's presence. "What of his chances?"

"He is weak compared to a child of term," Mrs Middleton replied. "But Dr Dixon seems confident of his survival. His breathing is stronger than expected. With extra care it is believed he will thrive as hoped." She then smiled. "I remember the last Calder child to be born in similar worrying conditions."

"Hutton?" Sir Felix asked with fear. He completely missed the positive change in her previously anxious tone.

"No, he is stood beside me," she replied. "You were soon improved. Look," she turned her attention back to the baby. "He sleeps peacefully, ignorant of the difficulties surrounding his entrance into this world. This is not the sleep of a sick child. He is small but no weakling."

"I do hope you are right," Sir Felix said.

"Of course I am," Mrs Middleton said. "The Good Lord will look after them. You will see. Now, Lady Calder must rest and she must see you when she awakes," she look his arm again and sat him by the bed. "So you will sit there until she does. Should you ring for assistance it will be answered by Mr Middleton or I."

Sir Felix nodded and she left him. He took hold of Mary's hand as he sought comfort. All his previous obsessions about losing her were now returning. He thought she would be safe after more than two years of marriage but of course it made sense it should be down to childbirth. After all, he made her pregnant and now there was a child to lose as well. He then mentally shook himself for thinking such thoughts. It was stupid of him to brood over such things. Mary was in no immediate danger, he was not at her bedside as she fought for life. It was just exhaustion after a difficult labour. Mrs Middleton just said that she needed rest. He had to trust those around him to care for her. Mrs Bennet and Mary's sisters would not let anything threaten Mary and he had to remember that. He put his hand on her forehead and was relieved to feel no fever. She just needed to sleep and he could ensure that happened. He may have been prevented from her side during the birth but there was nothing to keep him from her now. She would rest now. He sighed and placed his head on the bed by her side. They could all rest now.

He did not realise he had fallen asleep until he was woken by somebody playing with his hair. He sat up to find Mary awake. She was still laid against the pillows and her smile was weak but she was lucid. "How long have you been here?"

"I have no idea," he answered. "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted," she replied. "And drained. Do we have a son or daughter? I do not think I was told." She frowned, "I do not even remember producing a child." She scanned his face, now scared there had been complications but he did not look saddened so she concluded the child was living.

He smiled. "A very little boy." Then, to reassure her, "He is in the cradle sleeping peacefully." He gently took her in his arms and cuddled her. "He is alive and safe, you did well. Do not worry." He kissed her before tenderly placing her back on the bed.

"Wilfrid," she said. "I lack the energy to think of anything else. It is fortunate he is not a girl." Sir Felix smiled. It was a name he had greatly desired but had not wanted to force it upon Mary. "Bring me my Wilfrid."

Sir Felix nodded and went to the cradle. He hesitated and looked at Mary. "I have never held a baby so small." Mary, lacking the strength to do otherwise, just smiled. He turned back to Wilfrid and thought for a moment. "I apologise if I disturb you," he said then carefully lifted him. Wilfrid stirred but did not cry to Sir Felix's great relief. He smiled and carried him over to Mary.

"I do not think I am strong enough to hold him," she said with regret. She was sure she would faint if she tried to sit up. She had felt dizzy when her husband had hugged her before and had been grateful for his arms around her. Sir Felix instead sat on the bed next to her and held Wilfrid as near to her as possible. "Definitely suits Wilfrid. Wilfrid Thomas Calder," she put her hand to his face. "Perfect." Looking down at his son in his arms Sir Felix had to agree with her.

* * *

"You are a father now," Bertram said as he joined his brother in the library. He knew he would find Sir Felix there alone, especially as Mary was still confined to bed though out of danger. This was the first time he found his brother alone for the past few days. "A little son, Felix."

"Yes," Sir Felix looked at him with a smile. "Extraordinary. I think you would never have predicted this."

Bertram shook his head. "No. I was convinced you would become the hermit of Grantholme after I married but I had not foreseen the existence of Mary Bennet. Are you happy?" He had to ask that. His brother was a strange creature and becoming a husband and father was not something Bertram had imagined for him. He was worried it might be too much too fast for him.

"Yes, Bertie. Mary is incredible and Wilfrid is proving to be very endearing though loud," Sir Felix replied. "Do they quieten with age?"

"It would appear not," Bertram told him. "Frederick never has and now I think he could be ready for talking. I hope he does say his first word before his first birthday."

"Really?" Sir Felix asked. "That child is so like you that I believe once he starts talking he will never stop."

"It will be necessary to balance out the taciturnity of your son if he is to take after you, or Mary for that matter," Bertram joked. He then became serious. "I am glad you chose 'Wilfrid'. One of us needed to and I was not close enough to Papa to feel comfortable using it."

"It was an easy choice," Sir Felix replied. "Now I wonder how soon he will become Wilf or Wilfy." Bertram smiled guiltily. He had done that already at least once and he was sure that is to what his brother referred. "I am undecided whether that must be stopped."

"Then I promise I will not do it unless it is desired by Wilfrid when he is older," Bertram told him. "Did you consider 'Felix'?

"A few times but never seriously," he said.

"Kitty wanted another 'Bertram'," Bertram said. "I am glad we did not. Frederick is too much like me as it is. I think Wilfrid will be like you."

"He is three days old," Sir Felix reminded him. "How can you tell?" Wilfrid just looked like a baby to him. The handsomest baby boy in the kingdom, of course, but he certainly did not look like either of his parents at present.

"You just can," Bertram replied. "Wait until he is older then you will see. Do you think he and Frederick will be close?"

"I hope so," Sir Felix said. "I was always glad of your presence growing up. If we cannot provide him with any brothers, or indeed sisters, I hope he will be close to his cousins."

"We have certainly acquired a large family, or at least potentially a large family," Bertram remarked. Wilfrid was the seventh grandchild for Mr and Mrs Bennet with the promise of more to come. "It is strange to think."

"I imagine Darcy and Bingley are thinking the same thing," Sir Felix said. They had also come from small families. "The result of marrying a woman with four sisters." They heard a piercing cry. Sir Felix realised his library was not far enough away.

"I think your son is awake," Bertram pointed out the obvious.

"Yes. I think every conversation I carry out now will be ended prematurely," Sir Felix said. "Excuse me. I have not seen him awake today. It is hard to persuade the nurse that as a father I would like to see him when he is conscious. She finds it unusual that I take an active interest in him."

* * *

"When can I get up?" Mary asked. Her room was full of her sisters and her mother, as it had been since the birth. She only had peace when her husband arrived and shooed them out of her room. It was not her idea of recovery. Not to mention if she was further advised on the 'right' way to hold Wilfrid, rock Wilfrid, or anything else relating to his care by her family she would surely commit murder.

"Oh Mary," Jane said. "Not for another week at least. Wilfrid is only a few days old."

"When can I at least feed my son?" she asked.

The occupants of the room stared at her in shocked silence. Even Mrs Darcy received help in that matter and it was not often Lizzy felt she needed to conform.

"You have a wet nurse for that, child," Mrs Bennet told her. "Only the lower classes feed their children by themselves."

"Surely not," Mary said. "I cannot believe every 'good' family employs a wet nurse. There will be exceptions, Mamma."

"Sir Felix can afford one therefore she will be kept," Mrs Bennet said. "I had one, Jane has one, Elizabeth has one and Kitty has one. Lydia sadly lacks one due to circumstance. I will not have it known that my wealthy daughter feeds her own son when she can afford otherwise."

"Nobody will ever know, Mamma," Mary protested. It had been a struggle to keep Wilfrid in her room and she knew in another few weeks he will be removed to his own room. She had not realised she was expected to be this distant from her child.

"No," Mrs Bennet said. "Anyway, you will not be able. It was a traumatic birth and it is well known that such an experience dries up the milk."

'Well known by whom?' Mary thought but did not say anything. Her body told her otherwise, anyway. "I believe I am fully recovered," she returned to her original question.

"Mary, you still look very pale," Elizabeth told her. Mary sighed; even Lizzy appeared to be working against her. "You still need rest."

"You were soon on you feet," Mary reminded her.

"I had an easy birth with William," Elizabeth said. She then squeezed her hand. "It is best to not object," she told her in a low voice as the others were briefly occupied elsewhere. "Take advantage of the enforced bed rest. It will not happen often."

"I am being driven mad," Mary replied, also quietly. She took a piece of paper from her table. "Give that to my husband. I need something different to read."

"I can get your books," Elizabeth said. "Where are they? In the library?"

"They are in the tower room, which is locked and I am not giving you my key," Mary said. "I trust you but it is far too easy to make a mistake in there. Overturn a pile of books and Sir Felix would be apoplectic. If I must be confined to bed then I will put it to good use and expand my knowledge."

"I am going to persuade Mamma and the others to leave you alone," Elizabeth decided. She smiled slyly at her sister. "Whatever you decide to do alone will not be open to comment." She stood up and ushered the others out, not giving them the chance to object.

Mary waited for the door to close behind them then threw back the covers. She stood up, waited a second to ensure she did not experience a spell of dizziness then went over to her son's cradle. She smiled and stroked his cheek then picked him up. It was wonderful, no one around to tell her what to do or not to do. Contrary to what she kept being told he did not wake up and she allowed herself to feel smug. She did know how to hold her son properly after all and she was right when she had protested that it would not disturb him. "See, Mamma knows you well," she whispered then kissed his head. She went back to her bed to sit with him there. "And when I am stronger Papa and I shall make sure you are reared as we want not as others want." She held him close. "I think I will be glad when the others leave. Just because I have you now does not mean I am any more disposed to fuss over other children than my own." She studied him whilst musing on how they had managed to create something so perfect. He looked as if he would thrive despite his early arrival so she knew her prayers were answered. Anyway, 'Death' would have her to deal with if he wanted her Wilfrid and she was not going to lose him. He was her son and she promised him that she would always care for him. Never before had she felt anything as strong as a mother's love for her child. Their nurse had a lot with which to contend.

* * *

"This, sir, is a sight I never expected to see," Mr Bennet remarked as he walked into the library. "If you do not mind me saying."

Sir Felix looked up and smiled. He was sat in his chair, reading, as was his frequent habit. However, this time there was a small but significant difference. Upon him was laid the swaddled form of little Wilfrid fast asleep with his father's arm protectively around him. "I do not. I am just as shocked as you are." He tenderly stroked the tiny cheek with his thumb. "But I have found this little thing has quite a hold over me. It has taken me by surprise, I do admit."

"It is a strange power they have over us," Mr Bennet said. He could not deny that he took great pleasure from his grandchildren. It was a welcome opportunity to be able to watch a child grow and learn without having to bother about whether they could be provided for in the future. He was grateful that all his daughters now had sons (apart from Lydia, but he knew she did not care). He was relieved that they were now spared from the pressure of producing heirs. He now only hoped they would be spared the pain of losing a child. If he could be assured of that he would be truly happy. "And it never diminishes. He seems very content there."

"For the time being, yes," Sir Felix said. "But he is with me because both Mary and the nurse are in need of rest. The person who said the newly born only sleep and eat is very wrong. This particular one also appears to like the sound of his voice. Either that or he has realised at a very young age that one cry is enough to bring the whole house to his side thus giving him undivided attention. Regardless of the reason we are presently taking advantage of his present nap."

"Grantholme will not be quiet for a long time," Mr Bennet said.

"I know but I am unbothered," Sir Felix replied. "I think I can excuse my son a little noise. Surely, no child will be as loquacious as his Uncle Calder was so we are safe in that respect. I will allow him to be vocal at this present time. Up until a week ago he was in this warm and peaceful place. It must be a shock to suddenly find yourself where people keep picking you up and cuddling you." He smiled but could not deny that he was not one of those people. He did not think he would ever cease to be amazed at just how much love he felt for Wilfrid. It was ever increasing. "I am still astounded that Mary and I created this tiny being. More than that, the blood of his grandparents as well. Something he is unlikely to forget with his names. I apologise if it appears you are taking second place behind my father but another Thomas would be confusing."

"I am not offended," Mr Bennet smiled. "I am honoured that a third daughter has used it. I now have a Thomas, a William Thomas and a Wilfrid Thomas among my grandsons. Would a daughter be similarly named?"

"We had not settled on a name for a girl. Frances would be confusing with Anne-Frances, we could not see ourselves with a daughter called Adelina and Mary laughed at my suggestions of Wilfrida and Thomasina," Sir Felix replied. "She also refused to consider another Mary. I am still not used to there being another Wilfrid Calder but then I still cannot believe he will one day succeed me. He is far too little."

"They grow, Felix, faster than you could imagine," Mr Bennet said. "All of my daughters are now mothers but it does not seem that long since they were are small as young Wilfrid. Thomas and Anne-Frances are three years old now."

"Mary and I have been married over two years now," Sir Felix remarked. "And we have a child. It is not how I envisioned my life but I would not change anything. Grantholme looks better for it. It was wrong of me to deprive it of activity."

"It will never lack activity again," Mr Bennet commented. "Soon enough there will be grandchildren."

Sir Felix gave a small chuckle and looked at the little bundle on his chest. "At least give him chance to learn to walk before we have him married off and becoming a father. In fact, give him chance to smile."

"From what I have observed, sir, the Calders need not the ability to smile when courting," Mr Bennet said. "At least the elder branch does not." Bertram, of course, rarely stopped smiling. "I think I shall leave you in peace. It would be a shame to wake young Wilfrid." He smiled and left. Sir Felix adjusted his hold on his son and went back to his reading.

* * *

"Come on," Sir Felix quietly shut the door to the nursery. "Mamma and the nurse do not appreciate being woken so often, little Wilfrid." He made sure his son was well wrapped up against the cold March nights in Grantholme Hall then decided to go for a wander to see if it would cause Wilfrid to fall asleep. "If our family could see me thus they would think me even more eccentric." He removed the little hand from where it grasped his waistcoat and tucked it back under the blanket. The swaddling was starting to come loose but he had no idea how to fasten it back again. "You will get cold hands like that," he said. "Papa should be doing parenting from afar, as should Mamma, but we find ourselves to be not so inclined. However, having seen your various uncles fuss over your various cousins I see I have plenty of company."

He went down the stairs but did not go into any particular room. He decided that motion would make Wilfrid sleepy rather than him staying still. He was thankful that Grantholme was a nice size for walking around in. He was also glad their guests had departed the previous day. He no longer had to worry that he might come across somebody unexpectedly and disturb his musings. He hated being interrupted when he was deep in thought.

"You will inherit this one day," he said but, naturally, his son did not answer. He seemed, though, to recognise his father's voice now and made his usual attempt to look at him, as much as he could in his three-week old state. "Not that you understand that concept. You shall have help, though. I will not let you inherit in ignorance. I will teach you everything you need to know, as will Mamma who is more than able. You will have company at least; cousin William will need to know about Pemberley and likewise cousin Thomas for Brisden." He looked down at him as Wilfrid pouted slightly. Sir Felix adjusted his hold, worried that he was uncomfortable. "I am quite enchanted with you, you know. I wonder how long it will be before you smile," he mused. "I hope it is not dependent on the parents. Your mother and I are not known for smiling. Dear little thing. I wonder what you will grow up to be like. Strangely, despite being an unsociable being myself, I hope you will develop Bertram's gregarious nature. Now I understand why my father was so perturbed by my temperament."

"Felix."

He turned to see Mary standing behind him and smiled. "My love, should you be up at this hour?"

"Yes, if my husband is not at my side in bed," she answered. "We are no longer to be in separate beds."

"I believe the doctor thinks otherwise," Sir Felix pointed out. It had been one of the downsides of becoming a father. The doctor, his old adversary Dr Dixon, had prevented him from sharing a bed with his wife saying that she needed rest after the birth. He was sure it was to spite him for being such a difficult patient in the past.

"I have spent three weeks 'resting'," Mary complained. "And I am more than certain that I am unable to sleep because you are not there. Now, as our son appears to be asleep, please come to my bed."

Sir Felix smiled and followed her back upstairs. He needed no encouragement as he had found the enforced nightly separation just as difficult. He had become accustomed to holding her as he fell asleep and he did not like being prevented from doing so. They went to Wilfrid's room first to deposit their son.

"I am prodigiously proud of him," Mary said as her husband placed him in his cradle. He thankfully did not wake. "I do not care if it is a sin."

"He is incredible, yes. I think our siblings have been deluded into thinking they have the finest child." He then smiled. "I may change my mind if we are to experience another greatly disturbed night from him. I never knew sound could carry so well in Grantholme." He put his arm around her waist. "Come on. I am still not convinced you should be up."

She let him lead her to her chamber. Before they entered she stopped and looked at him. "I have done it. Grantholme has an heir now. People can no longer judge me now I have done my 'duty'. Grantholme has a mistress and I am mother to its heir. I can now be the wife I want to be not what society dictates I should be."

Sir Felix smiled. "You have the wrong surname. It should be Wollstonecraft." Mary had changed during the few years they had been married and she maintained it was down to having free rein over his, their, vast and varied library. She had yet to find a book he disapproved of her reading.

"Well, it is certainly not Bennet," she said. "I am most definitely not Mary Bennet any more."

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N:A. I had planned to have a longer birth scene but decided I could not do it justice. I hope, readers, you do not feel too cheated out of one. :)


	7. 1789 Captain Philip Morris

This doesn't really directly in the P&P fandom but Philip Morris does appear in one of my fics so I suppose it is sort of related ;)

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1789 – Somewhere in the Indian Ocean

Captain Philip Morris lay in his bed on board a ship sailing somewhere in the Indian Ocean. He could hear the water lapping against the hull. Or at least he presumed he could hear the water. The boundary between reality and fantasy had been blurred for many weeks now. He had been in India, he was sure of that, as an officer in the British Army. It was entirely possible he still was; in the army anyway. He did not think he was in India now. No, there was the sound of water. However, that could be the rain. It was monsoon season, he thought. That was why he was so very warm. No, he was hot because he was ill. He had been ill for weeks now and, if he was completely honest, he could not remember being well. He _was_ in a ship and returning to England because there was no need for him to be in India any more. The army had no use for sick men. He was returning to England because he was useless now.

He shifted slightly. There was no comfortable position to be found. The ship was rocking too much, or at least it was in his fevered mind. He was not sure. He was trying not to move as it made breathing difficult and caused red-hot bolts of pain to shoot through his body. He placed his hand on his stomach where the worst of the pain was felt. It was still bandaged. He had forgotten about that. Or had he? It was always bandaged now. He could no longer remember what his skin felt like there. He presumed that he still had skin there. Perhaps that was why bandages were ever present. Panic threatened to overcome him. He did not know whether he was still intact. The army surgeons back in Bombay had taken his skin! No, no, that made little sense. It was not possible to be without skin. But, they had sliced at him with their knives. He remembered that. To remove the bullet, they said. Or the infection? Both, probably. It had happened more than once. He was unlikely to ever forget that. The pain was more than real, even if any other awareness had been suspended. There was always pain nowadays, pain and a mind so clouded he was not certain of anything anymore. Was this to be his life now? He had vague recollections of being told, or hearing, about a miraculous survival. His survival, he supposed, because he did remember being left alone to die. He had been shot and they took him to a room but had then left him. He had called out but they did not return because he was not supposed to remain alive for so long. He had and they were astounded. Then, there was so much pain, more than when he had even been shot, and it had barely abated since. And he was alone again. But not in Bombay. He had to remember that. This was a ship. Weeks, no, months had passed since he had been injured and it was now no longer Bombay. He was alive, he presumed, and returning to England and home.

He was alone. Why did they leave him like this? Nothing made sense and he needed somebody else's sound mind because his was sadly departed but nobody remained with him. He had a valet. Where was Prescott?

"Prescott?" he croaked.

There was no answer. Where was he? He was sure Prescott was his only friend. Even though he was only supposed to be his servant. But Prescott was the only kind face he remembered. The army surgeons and his fellow officers offered no gentleness because he was in the army and it was not required. Or something to that effect. Perhaps Prescott was resting. He was supposed to be sleeping but that was difficult these days. Rarely did he 'sleep' but rather 'lost consciousness' due to pain or fever. It was never restful and he seemed to think that is what sleep should be. Still, nobody came. He could hear voices but nobody ever came. Perhaps the voices were only in his head. That was possible. It was becoming a regular occurrence, along with seeing things that were not there. Nothing made any sense anymore.

Maybe he was dead? Was this his personal hell? Or purgatory? He felt that he deserved hell or purgatory. He had killed his mother. No! No! It was not murder, he was only a baby. He did not mean to cause her death by being born. That is what his father assured him. But his brother thought differently. Stephen hated him for that reason. He did not know who was correct. It was too much for his mind to comprehend. A man who caused another man's death was a murderer. No! A man who _deliberately_ caused another man's death was a murderer. He did not intend for his mother to die. He convulsively grabbed a handful of sheet. Why did nothing make sense anymore? He had dwelled upon his birth and mother's death frequently in the recent weeks. It was not helped by the fact that she kept appearing to him. But how could she appear to him when he did not know what she looked like. Who was appearing to him? He struggled for breath again. It was so dark. No wonder he saw things that were not there. Anything could be lurking in the shadows. Perhaps that was where everyone was. Why was it dark? There had been light in Bombay because they could not keep it away but here on the ship they could keep him in the dark. Maybe they thought it would be healing. It was not. It made him feel even more delirious than usual, even when he was not. It was dark, the ship was constantly rocking and he could not see a thing. He would ask Prescott for a candle when he returned. If he remembered. That was unlikely. He felt unusually lucid and he knew that it would not last. The laudanum was wearing off. It was now a choice between coherency and pain or laudanum and blissful oblivion. He was afraid that he would become addicted.

He wondered where the ship was. The passage of time made no sense to him. He had no idea how long it was since he left India. Not that it would make any difference. He could not remember how long the journey was to England. Or did they reach somewhere else first? Perhaps. Not that it mattered. He would not be leaving the ship until England. His ability to stand and walk had long since departed. Along with the capability to do anything else. He was truly useless now. Oh, how he longed to be in England. At least he had his family there. They would not mind if he was weak and infirm.

He dwelled upon the thought of his family. A wife, a son and a daughter. He was fortunate. The thought of them was the only thing that kept him alive. His son would be nearly seven years old now; how he must have grown since he saw him last. And his daughter; he would be meeting her for the first time. Catherine had been pregnant when he had left for India. She should have forgiven him for leaving her by now. He frowned, something bothering at the back of his mind, but soon returned to other thoughts. They could start afresh. Catherine had disliked his position in the army. She seemed to be the only woman not swayed by a uniform. Would Frank remember him? He had to be a better father now. As bedridden he would likely be at least he could now be the husband and father they deserved.

Only one thing worried him about returning to England. It tormented him in his lowest and most painful moments where his mind played tricks upon him. India had been a way to escape his brother. He was returning home weak and defenceless; Stephen would only take advantage. The deliria of the past months had turned his brother from a common bully into a ruthless tyrant. He was afraid that the latter would turn out to be true. What if he ended up at his brother's mercy? Stephen had the potential to be very cruel.

He thought that maybe he regretted leaving for India. If he had remained in England then he would have been with Catherine when she had died.

Where did that come from?

Catherine was alive. No, she was not. He remembered receiving a letter with news of her death a few years ago. Or did he? Perhaps that was a false memory caused by the fever. No, he would not imagine something so horrible. She was dead. However, he had dreamt of so many other terrible things that maybe this was one of those. She had come to him before. No, she had not. Or she had, but as a ghost. But then, so had Stephen and he was unfortunately very much alive. He did not know! He could not remember if his own wife was still alive! Why must he remain in this continual state of confusion? Would there ever be clarity again?

The door opened and he watched as a candle, seemingly suspended in mid-air, came into the room. He frowned, unsure as to whether it was another hallucination.

"C-Catherine?" he asked, weakly, trying to raise his body from the bed.

The candle came nearer and a familiar face was illuminated. "No, sir."

"Prescott." He sank back down. "She is dead?" He could see Prescott sadly nod in confirmation. This had been a frequent occurance in the past months. The captain had often called out for his wife and father (both unfortunately deceased) or worse, imagined their presence.

Prescott put the candle down. It gave Captain Morris the light he had so craved before. He now had something upon which to focus and it helped against the rocking of the ship.

"I called for you," he said.

"I was resting," Prescott told him. He placed a hand on the officer's forehead. "You have been feverish for the past few days. But better now."

"I am sore," the captain said. "But I know how you will solve that."

"I only act on the doctor's orders," Prescott replied. It was fortunate that he had been in the service of Captain Morris for many years now otherwise he would object to playing nursemaid. "And he does prescribe more laudanum."

"I am weary of the fog it causes. Now it is worn off I am almost thinking clearly," Captain Morris said. "Is it so necessary?"

"We are nearing the Cape. The conditions there are said to be particularly bad," Prescott told him. "The doctor believes the increased movement of the ship will aggravate your injuries. You will require something for the pain."

"The Cape? So soon," he said. "But then, I no longer have any concept of time." Although he was in pain he wanted to delay Prescott's intention to drug him again. He recognised the necessity but it was a blessed relief to experience clarity of mind again.

"We will be in England before you know it," Prescott said.

"I intend to start afresh, Prescott, now the army will no longer have me," he said. "I refuse to become the useless second son."

"There is only room for one useless son in your family and your brother fills that position admirably."

"He is the earl now," Captain Morris said. "Apparently that means he serves his purpose."

Prescott gave a half smile. "The birth order in your family has its deficiencies."

"He would not have survived in the army," Morris replied. "Which would have been fortunate for me." He closed his eyes, the new-found strength and clarity waning rapidly. "Prescott?"

"You will have to sit up," Prescott replied as he produced a small bottle. Captain Morris did as he was told, albeit very slowly, and took the bottle. It was about time he started dosing himself.

He then lay back down with a smile. "This stops when we return to England." He needed it to survive the journey back. He was well aware of the implications of that necessity but now was not the place or time to remedy it. "Otherwise I shall become quite the opium fiend," he muttered as he drifted back into the realm of unconsciousness. At least Prescott was there to deal with the insane ramblings that were bound to return. 


End file.
